


Don't Call it a Sophomore Slump

by phonecallfromgod



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotionally Constipated Guys Learning to Talk About Their Feelings, F/F, Fuck Buddies to Actual Friends, M/M, Michael Lee Brown!Evan, Minor Mentions of Past Self-Medicating, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-05-21 02:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 62,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phonecallfromgod/pseuds/phonecallfromgod
Summary: Connor had thought going out of state for college in the wake of his mom getting re-married had been the perfect solution to avoiding the awkward growing pains of a blended family.And it had been until Connor had come home to find out that the guy he'd been hooking up with all year is now dating his stepbrother.(Or Evan and Jared are in love, Heidi and Cynthia are married, Zoe has a secret, and Connor is done with all of them)CURRENTLY ON HIATUS





	1. May.

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clarify that while this fic talks pretty openly about Jared and Connor hooking up this is pretty firmly a Kleinsen fic and will not be endgame Connor/Jared or Connor/Evan/Jared. 
> 
> However, if you are in the mood for some Conman content I highly recommend i'm sick of all the small talk (if you're sick of pretending) by euphrasiefauchelevent.

**May.**

Let’s get one thing perfectly clear right off the bat. Jared Kleinman is _not_ Connor’s type. At all. 

Hooking up with Jared, and then continuing to do so again (and again, and again), like many things in Connor’s life, seemed to just _happen_ to him. 

They’d been at some stupid freshman mixer together, Connor having been harangued ino going by his roommate, Justin, and he was trying to blend into the grey brick wall with a cup of sad watered down punch in hand while he tried to avoid watching a straight couple put their tongues in each other’s mouths. 

“God it’s like fucking National Geographic,” some guy said, saddling up beside him. Kinda short, glasses, nerdy graphic t-shirt with some too-obscure-to-be-funny reference on it. Not even remotely Connor’s type. 

Maybe it had been the insufferable heterosexual vibe of the party, maybe it was the fact that despite not being remotely Connor’s type, the guy, Jared, had been snarky and bitingly funny in just the way that he found appealing, maybe it was wanting to be gay in actual practice and not just theory now that he was in college and had actual dating prospects for the first time ever. 

Whatever it was, Connor found himself putting his own tongue in Jared’s mouth only a few hours later. Connor hadn’t really planned on making it any sort of _thing_ after the first time, but they lived in the same dorm, took an introductory astronomy course together, and had significant friend group overlap. Connor knew that most people who had friends with benefits usually did the friends part first and the benefits part second, but it had worked for him and Jared so who gave a fuck how it normally worked. 

Also it wasn’t, like, an arrangement. It wasn’t something they’d sat down and fucking discussed. It wasn’t a big deal to go out to get pizza after spending hours studying for their stupid astronomy midterm and then spend the rest of the night giving each other handjobs. Especially when it was basically just a stress reliever. It was equally not a big deal when Connor met Thomas in his Early British Lit class and without ever talking about it, he and Jared stopped. Connor and Thomas dated for the better part of the winter semester before breaking up over irreconcilable differences on the opinion of autobiographical literary analysis. 

Jared brought him a bottle of Southern Comfort and gave him a sympathy blow job. 

And they were real friends, they really were. Even if Connor tended to be a bit more private about his family life (currently a mess) and his mental health (a mess but less so), they at least occasionally talked about their feelings and shit. Connor knew that Jared was still nursing a puppy love crush on his best friend from back home and that they emailed each other basically every day. He knew that Jared’s dad was a geology professor who had bought an “I <3 My Gay Son” mug the day after Jared had come out, and that his mom had once written an article advocating for alternatives to religious circumcision so everyone at Jared’s high school had known the exact status of his dick. He knew that he was scared of snakes and when girls have those scary talon nails and his cat dying. 

And Jared knew...well, Jared knew that Connor had a family so like. Same difference.

But seriously, Jared knew that his brain was kind of shit sometimes even though Connor was really fucking trying and doing a lot better for the most part. And he knew a lot of shit that Connor hadn’t even told him because Jared was nosy as fuck and liked the smug satisfaction of remembering someone’s drink order or the name of their sister, so it didn’t even really matter if Connor told him stuff or not. 

Still, Jared was probably his closest friend at school, despite the handful of people he’d actually managed to trick into liking him, so it had sort of sucked when Connor had awoken a week before move out with three texts from Jared saying that he’d ended up having to move out early and that he was sorry not to be able to say goodbye properly. 

_Text me when your home we shoudl totally go see a movie or something_

Connor stares at the text for a long moment before throwing his phone back down in his mess of sheets and opting to go to the gym in an attempt to do something productive to get his mind off the weird swirl of feelings rising in his chest. 

He spends the rest of the week packing and manages to replace most of his weird Jared nonsense with the slow anxious build of having to actually be around his family in the very near future. Like, not to sound totally ungrateful, because stuff is so much better than it was when his parents were still married and he was unmedicated and his relationship with Zoe was completely fucked up. He’s glad his mom is happy first and foremost, and honestly he gets along pretty well with his stepmom who’s constantly emailing him facebook memes since he doesn’t have a profile she can tag him in. 

It’s just. 

Evan. 

Maybe it’s because him and Evan are the same age, and actually went to the same elementary school for a few years when they were kids, before his parents divorce and subsequent move out of the district, maybe it’s because Evan is shy and awkward and anxious and always seems a little bit terrified of him no matter what Connor does. And maybe it’s the fact that Evan got to stay home with his mom and Zoe all year while he went to the local college and when Connor had gone home for winter break the four of them were all cozy without him. 

Whatever it is, it’s weird, and despite feeling a little bit guilty about it Connor’s relieved when only his mom and Zoe are waiting for him in the arrivals area at the airport when he finally manages to push through with his obnoxiously oversized luggage cart. Going to college out of state was all fun and games until he actually had to bring all his shit home. 

His mom rushes over, a hand over her mouth, and throws her arms around him. “Oh sunshine, oh sunshine,” she says, half muffled in the shoulder of his jacket. She pulls back but keeps her arms on his shoulders, looking him over, her eyes damp. Connor catches Zoe’s eye over his mom’s shoulder and she gives him a little wave. 

“Hey,” he says. 

“Hi,” she says, raising her eyebrows at him. 

Satisfied that Connor’s in one piece his mom pats him on the upper arm once, “Do you need help with anything?” 

“Nah,” Connor says, giving his cart a shove, it’s heavy but totally manageable. “Did you park in the garage?” 

“Evan’s actually going to bring the car to the pick up,” his mom says, and Connor’s stomach drops. 

“Oh. Okay,” he says, having really hoped he could put off having to make awkward small talk with his stepbrother until at least after he’d gotten to have a shower and a nap. 

“Heidi’s sorry she couldn’t come too,” his mom says, “But we’ll do a nice family dinner tonight, your choice. She’s so excited to see you.” 

“Me too,” Connor says, and it’s not quite a lie. He likes Heidi, and even though he still feels like he’s finding his footing with her there’s not that same awkward fragility to all of their interactions that he has with Evan. That painful forced quality because they’re both _trying really hard_ to not make it awkward. Which of course only makes the whole thing more awkward. 

At least when Evan hops out of his mom’s Crossover to help with Connor’s stuff they have something to do so they don’t stand there awkwardly, unsure of if they’re supposed to like, hug or shake hands or what, which had happened when Connor had come home for winter break. 

Instead they get the excuse of lifting Connor’s obnoxiously large suitcases into the hatch so they don’t actually have to do the whole greeting song and dance. 

Evan pulls back to close the hatch, and Connor tilts his head, eyeing his shirt. There’s some sort of pixelated video game thing on the chest, half cut off by the sides of Evan’s unzipped hoodie. 

“Connor?” Evan says hesitantly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, his shoulders curling ever so slightly, “Are you okay?” 

“What? Fuck. Yeah, sorry.” Connor says, making a big dramatic show of shaking his head, “Sorry, my friend has a shirt like that so it just looked sort of familiar.” 

“Isn’t that your _boyfriend’s_ shirt?” Zoe teases gleefully, pulling open the door and climbing into the car. 

“You have a boyfriend?” Connor says, more judgmental than he meant to,“Since when?” This is the kind of news Zoe or his mom usually keeps him in the loop for, since he doesn’t have a facebook and his twitter account hasn’t been used since high school. 

Evan flushes, tapping his fingers on his sternum, “It’s like, new, I don’t even- I’m not even sure if we’re like _dating officially_ or whatever. Uh…”

“Oh-kay,” Connor says, “Well uh, that’s nice.” He adds, hoping he doesn’t sound bitter. Not that he’s exactly put himself in the path of finding a boyfriend since Thomas, and it’s not like he doesn’t have someone to go to if he just wants to blow off some sexual steam. But still, his super awkward anxious stepbrother getting a boyfriend before he does just seems a bit unfair in the grand scheme of things. 

“Mom, do you wanna drive?” Evan says turning away from Connor, and for a half second Connor thinks maybe he’d misheard his mom about Heidi not coming, but nope, Evan is very clearly talking not to his own mom, but Connor’s. 

“Sure honey,” his mom says, crossing over to get the keys from Evan, and then pausing between the two of them, reaching out to touch them both on the cheek. “Both of my boys home,” She says her voice just ever so watery around the edges, beaming at both of them. Connor tries to look out of the corner of his eye to see if Evan thinks any of this is as weird as he does, but he just smiles at Connor’s mom until she pulls away. 

He ends up sitting shotgun, Zoe and Evan chatting in the back about some Netflix series they’ve been watching, so he doesn’t get the chance to ask Zoe when the _fuck_ Evan had started calling their mom ‘mom’ instead of Cynthia. He tries to remember if he’d been doing it during winter break, but Connor had spent most of that two weeks reading in his room and avoiding the whole Christmakkuh ordeal as much as possible. 

Once they’re home and all of his stuff is unloaded Connor begs off his mom’s offer of lunch by insisting he needs to shower and then avoiding any more family weirdness by immediately falling asleep afterwards. 

When he opens his eyes again it’s clearly much later in the day, and Connor groggily pushes himself up, not sure for a long second what woke him up, until there’s a small tentative knock on his door. Connor shoves his hair out of his eyes, navigating around his two giant suitcases to be unpacked and pulls open the door just enough so he can see Evan standing nervously on the other side. His hand grips at the bottom of his hoodie sleeve like he’s hanging on for dear life and god it would really be nice if for once Evan didn’t make Connor feel like he was terrified of him. 

“Yeah?” Connor says, voice worn rough by sleep. 

“Hey, uh,” Evan says, pulling hard on his sleeve, “So uh, I wanted to ask you- You can _totally say no -_ I wanted to ask you, uh, uh, if you would maybe be okay if- see okay,” Evan steadies himself for a second, “I was supposed to go on a date tonight, but obviously now we’re doing your dinner thing, and, and of course I want to go to _that_ -” 

“You want your boyfriend to come to dinner with us?” Connor says finally, putting Evan out of his apparent misery. 

“Yes. Yes please,” Evan says, nodding frantically, “I mean if that’s okay.” 

“Yeah totally,” Connor says. And honestly having someone there to be a bit of a buffer between him and Evan sounds actually really nice. Even if having a total stranger at his welcome home dinner isn’t exactly a dream come true. Actually if it were really up to Connor he’d just as soon order some Japanese take out and watch a movie or something. But he’s not about to deny his mom the joys of a big family dinner so he’s fine to play along and let Evan invite his new maybe-boyfriend or whatever. 

Evan disappears off down the hallway and down the stairs, pulling out his phone to text his boyfriend and Connor’s about to close his door again when he catches sight of Zoe’s door propped open a little bit, and after a moment of hesitation shuts his own door behind him and crosses to the end of the hall to knock on her door. 

There’s the sound of some generic indie music playing from her laptop, Zoe sitting in the middle of her bed doing something Connor can’t see. He raps twice on the door and waits for her to see him before stepping inside her room and pulling the door shut behind him. 

“Hey, you got a sec?” 

Zoe nods, and pulls her arms out of a tangle of...yarn? “What’s up?” 

“Are you knitting?” 

Zoe shrugs. “Arm knitting, Heidi taught me. It’s fun. I’m making scarves for people as graduation presents.” 

“Yeah they’re really going to be needing those scarves in June.” 

“Fuck off,” Zoe says but there’s no malice as she goes back to winding her arms through the yarn. “What did you want?” 

“Right,” Connor says, rubbing the base of his neck. “Uh, how long has Evan been calling our mom ‘mom’?” 

Zoe looks up from her knitting, tilting her head and giving him a little judgmental frown. “Does it matter?”

“I mean, not really, but it’s kinda weird.” 

“No it’s not,” Zoe says. “Mom doesn’t think it’s weird. If anything, she thought it was weird having a kid call her Cynthia all the time.” 

Connor blinks. “Do you call Heidi mom?” 

“Yeah, sometimes I do, _Connor_. God, does it matter?” 

“It’s weird. We’d barely even met Evan before the wedding and then suddenly he’s acting like our mom is his mom.” 

Zoe sighs like he’s being very difficult. “I mean it’s not really that suddenly, just because you were gone didn’t mean the rest of us froze in time waiting for the prodigal son to return. This is normal now.” 

Connor huffs. “Alright, sorry for asking.” 

Zoe stares at him for a long second, considering, and then seems to decide against saying anything else, looking away. “Can you close my door please?” 

Connor bites back a halfhearted petty comment and pulls her door shut behind him on the way out. He should probably start unpacking but the thought of having to lug all his clothes down to the basement to the laundry room is so painfully unappealing that he opts to trudge downstairs where he can procrastinate without it staring him in the face. 

He’s not sure where his mom is, maybe downstairs in her “office,” which was a scrapbooking room when Connor left for college, but if the rumors from Zoe are true might have turned into a soap-making room by now. He’s pretty sure Heidi isn’t home yet either, so he hangs out in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water from the infusion jug his mom keeps in the fridge, full of bright yellow and green rings of lemon and lime, something green and leafy and unidentifiable floating in the water. Connor leans against the marble island and texts Jared, who’s been surprisingly quiet for the last few days. 

Connor’s never been particularly good at keeping up a text conversation, but he usually gets a few from Jared on the daily. Stupid little memes or angry rants about assholes he’s bumped into online or in real life. Connor’s thumb hovers over the keyboard for a long time, searching for something to say that doesn’t sound absolutely pathetic. Complaining about his current family situation feels wanky enough on its own, not to mention that it’s arguably about as good as it’s ever been, but that also means admitting a few key uncomfortable details about his family life to Jared. 

After a long few minutes he sighs and closes out of their convo, wandering with his glass to the living room and pulling up Food Network for some quality background noise. He comes in midway through an episode of Chopped and picks a chef at random to root for. She doesn’t win. Connor’s about to change the channel as Hell’s Kitchen comes on when there’s suddenly a loud knock at the door. 

He waits a long second, not really wanting to answer it, but resigned to the fact that he’s arguably the closest to the front door. 

“ _Can someone get that!?_ ” Evan shouts after a few seconds from downstairs, “ _I’m changing!_ ” 

Must be Evan’s boyfriend then. He’d thought maybe it was just Heidi having forgotten her keys, which she’d done at least four times in the two months they’d all lived together before Connor’d left for school. Connor sighs, hauling himself off the couch, letting the overdramatic intro to the show play as he crosses out of the living room and into the front hall. There’s another series of rapid knocks and Connor rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Keep your shirt on.” 

Connor hadn’t really had any expectations for Evan’s boyfriend. Someone probably equally anxious and Evan-esque maybe, but he really hadn’t put any thought into it. 

So it’s like being doused in ice water when Connor pulls open the front door and there’s Jared Kleinman, shined up like he’s someone’s prom date and holding a fucking cactus. 

_“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE [BLEEP]ING KIDDING ME!”_ Gordon Ramsay screams from the living room. 

And it’s like time just stops fucking existing for a second and they just stare at each other in horrified shock and the pound of Connor’s heart is so so so loud and he can’t tell where it ends and where the heavy footfall of Evan on the stairs starts. 

“Hey!” Evan says appearing to Connor’s right, and shattering everything, Connor taking a huge step backwards. He’s just a tiny bit out of breath and absolutely beaming at Jared in the doorway. 

“Hey,” Jared says, his voice pitched up an octave too high as Evan leans in like he’s going to kiss him, and then seems to remember Connor’s presence, hesitates, and just sort of pats Jared affectionately on the shoulder. 

Jared is Evan’s boyfriend. Jared Kleinman is his step brother's boyfriend. Jared Kleinman. His Jared. His friend Jared who Connor has hooked up with no less than twenty five times. He’s Evan’s boyfriend. 

Oh this is so unbelievably fucked up. 

“Are you okay?” Evan asks, and Connor’s so in his head that it takes him until Jared answers to realize that Evan isn’t even talking to him. 

“Hahaha, yeah I’m _good_. I’m super-mega-amazing,” Jared says, still staring at Connor and Evan seems to catch his eye line and waves a hand. 

“Sorry, Jare,” Oh Jesus Christ they have _petnames_ , “This is Connor. Connor this is my uh….this is Jared.” 

“Yeah, _hi Connor_ ,” Jared says, and Jesus Christ if looks could kill. 

“Hey,” Connor says and there’s another painful pause as Evan looks between the two of them, rolling his ankle over and over again. He finally seems to notice the small potted cactus Jared is holding. 

“Is that for me?” Evan asks, and that seems to snap Jared out of his one-man glaring contest with Connor, which Connor takes as a cue to back up farther into the hallway. 

“Oh yeah,” Jared says, handing the cactus to Evan, and then in a softer tone of voice than Connor has ever heard him use, “Do you like it?” 

Evan nods incredibly solemnly. “I don’t think we’re leaving for a bit, do you wanna go hang out in my room?” 

Jared nods, and shoots one last absolutely bewildered glare at Connor before letting Evan tug him through the living room and down the stairs into the basement. 

Connor shoves the front door shut and practically collapses against the wall. Of fucking course this would happen to _him_ , it’s like the entire fucking universe has conspired to teach him a lesson about being too closed off to his friends by just absolutely ruining his life. 

He stays collapsed against the wall for an embarrassingly long few minutes before realizing he should probably turn off the television, where Gordon Ramsay is currently still screaming at some chefs. Just as he sets the remote control back in its spot on the coffee table, he hears the sound of Jared’s obnoxiously loud and distinctive laugh from the basement and Connor’s heart plummets into his heels. 

Because fuck of course he’d tell Evan immediately. Connor can put together two and two fairly quickly, Evan is obviously the guy Jared was emailing all the time. His literal childhood best friend. Who cares about your fuck buddy in the face of best friends 5ever. Connor can feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and he swipes at them angrily. 

This isn’t fucking fair. Jared is supposed to be _his_ friend. But nope, not only does Evan get to swan in and take the one really positive connection Connor managed to make at school right from under him, oh no, turns out he’s been Evan’s all along. 

Connor can feel himself starting to spiral, so as much as he’d really just to love to give in and have a big angry cry about the whole thing he manages to pick himself off the couch and goes out onto the porch to try and take some big deep breaths where there’s no chance of hearing Evan and Jared. 

He manages to walk himself far enough back from the emotional ledge to look at it a bit more clearly. Even if Evan and Jared are really close Connor can’t imagine Jared exactly jumping at the chance to tell his new boyfriend he’s hooked up repeatedly with his stepbrother. Or at least Connor figures he wouldn’t do it if he were in Jared’s shoes. He takes another deep breath and suddenly realizes that he’s been white knuckling the bannister and his fingers tingle as he lets go and blood starts rushing back. 

“Connor!” Someone calls, and Connor squints into the early evening sunshine as Heidi waves at him from her rolled down window and maneuvers into the driveway. 

Heidi’s little heeled boots click on the pavement as she practically runs up the little pathway towards the porch, taking the stairs with a little hop, her arms already spread for a hug and Connor can’t help but grin into it as she leans up into it. 

“How was your flight!? Is your mom home? Did we already pick a dinner place?” Heidi rattles off, not seeming particularly invested in any actual answers but Connor shrugs in generic response anyways and pulls open the front door for her. 

“Are you coming inside?” Connor says after a long second when she doesn’t move. 

“Oh! ...Oh.” Heidi says with realization darting a quick glance over her shoulder towards the car, seeming to waffle for a second before clicking her tongue, “I guess it doesn’t really matter. I wanted it to be at least a little bit of a surprise…” 

She drifts off stepping off the porch and crossing back to her car, pulling a large flat Dairy Queen box out of the backseat, and carrying it carefully towards him. 

“Ta da!” She says tipping the box down so Connor can see, “ _Welcome Home Conor!_ ” written on the top in loopy icing. He’s not exactly sure what Heidi’s obsession with Dairy Queen ice cream cakes is, but Connor’s not complaining about the increased presence of them in his life, even if they did get his name wrong. 

Even if it’s his cake, he gets delegated to carrying the box to the freezer while Heidi stops in the hallway to kiss his mom hello. Connor’s still not totally used to seeing his mom be physically affectionate with someone in a romantic way. He doesn’t even remember even seeing his parents hold hands or hug when he was a kid, and while obviously his mom being a lesbian didn’t help the situation, he still chalks most of it up to his dad being a huge shitbag. Anyway, Connor’s totally fine to skip out on the daily mom PDA minute and slip into the kitchen, using his knee to balance the bottom of the box while he pulls open the freezer. There’s not _really_ enough room for it, and under any other circumstances he’d take it down to the freezer in the basement. But the basement is where Evan and Jared are so Connor just keeps shoving until he can get the door shut. 

There’s an analogy about his current emotional state in there somewhere, if Connor really wanted to go looking for it, but he really doesn’t, so he just heads back to the living room. 

“Have you decided on where you’d like to eat?” His mom says, looking up from where her and Heidi are now snuggled on the love seat. 

Connor opens his mouth, even though he has no freaking clue where he wants to eat, finding out your fuck buddy is now dating your stepbrother tends to sort of ruin your appetite, but he’s saved when Zoe suddenly shouts from upstairs. 

_“MOM!?”_

“Yes!” His mom and Heidi call back in sync, and Jesus that’s surreal. 

There’s a pause and then _“MOM-DI!?”_

Heidi laughs, “Yes?” 

“Can I borrow your grey boots?” Zoe calls, much closer, and Connor can just picture her leaning way too far over the bannister. 

“Sure, they’re in the hall closet!” Heidi calls back, and then turns back to Connor like there was nothing out of the ordinary about any of that. He feels like maybe he could get used to this whole “everyone calls everyone mom now” thing a lot easier if even one other person acknowledged it as being anything other than normal. 

“Connor?” His mom prompts, “Dinner?” 

“Oh,” Connor says, “I’m actually, I’m not really that hungry.” 

His mom frowns at him, untangling herself and coming over to put her hands on his face, “Are you sure? You haven’t eat anything all afternoon. Are you feeling sick?” 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Connor snaps, harsher than he means to, and mentally kicks himself when his mom looks back at him all hurt, pulling her hands away and wrapping her drapey cardigan around herself. 

“Sorry,” Connor says, “I’m still just kind of tired from the plane and packing and stuff. I don’t really think I can do a big dinner right now.” 

“Oh sunshine,” his mom says, “Of course, you’re probably still jetlagged. Why don’t we get takeout from that Mexican place downtown. Maybe you can have a lie down while we go get the food?” 

“Sure,” Connor says. At least if he’s being forced to have the world’s most awkward dinner he can do it in the comfort of his own home. 

Heidi takes down his order in the notes of her phone before slipping downstairs to talk to Jared and Evan. Zoe comes padding down in an outfit that seems more formal than necessary for family dinner. 

“Can we make mojitos?” Zoe asks, standing by the front door and twirling her keys in her hand impatiently. 

“We’ll see,” his mom says, giving him a little wink like letting her kids have a small amount of alcohol on a Friday night in their own home is so wild and crazy of her. Cynthia Murphy, cool mom of the year. 

Heidi finally reemerges and the three of them head out, the front door closing like the end stop on a telegram, and Connor is painfully aware of the two other people in his house.

Maybe it’s a bit cowardly, but it feels good climbing up to his room and managing to put a whole floor between them. He spends a pitiful five minutes attempting to unpack his things, which mostly just means opening his big suitcase, staring at the contents for a minute, and then zipping it shut again. 

Connor’s debating just trying to go back to sleep, maybe even just sleeping — or pretending to sleep — through dinner when suddenly he hears creaking footsteps on the stairs. He freezes listening as someone walks across the hall past his room and into the bathroom. After a long pause he jolts into action, pulling his room door open and rapping twice on the bathroom door. 

“Evan?” 

“Uh, no,” Jared says through the door and Connor turns the handle and promptly whirls around, shutting them both in the bathroom. 

“ _Dude!_ ” Jared hisses, zipping his fly, “The fuck.” 

“You’re the one who didn’t lock the door,” Connor says, “Besides it’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen.” 

“You cannot say that shit dude, holy fuck,” Jared says, his voice pitched low. “This is already going to be a fucking nightmare to explain to Evan without drawing him a freaking map.” 

Connor practically melts into the side of the counter in relief. “You haven’t told Evan yet?” 

“I don’t have a fucking deathwish,” Jared says, running a hand through his hair and fluffing it out of it’s overly combed over prison. “God this just had to happen. I finally get a boyfriend and what happens? His step-cryptid is my fuck buddy. We’re gonna have to be like, so delicate about this.” 

“What?” Connor says, “No, we can’t _tell him_.” 

“Uh, we can’t _not_ tell him,” Jared says, “Besides, we’re like, one facebook post away from him putting it together on his own and that’d be way worse.” 

Connor frowns. “I don’t have facebook.” 

“Yeah I know, it’s super annoying, but that won’t stop anyone from posting pictures of us together at parties. We can’t pretend like we’ve never met and then have photos of us at like, Allie’s birthday or whatever pop up.” 

Connor actually hadn’t thought about that, but it’s a fair point. “Okay so we just tell him we’re like acquaintances or whatever.” 

“Dude.” Jared says, all judgmental.

“Look, shit around here is already weird enough without Evan knowing I slept with his boyfriend a bunch of times. Can we please just...not tell him. Just for a while even. Just til the end of the summer.” 

Jared looks at him unimpressed. “You know if you’d told me literally two more things about your family I could have put this together _months_ ago and we wouldn’t be in this shit now.” 

“Well I didn’t, and this is what we’re dealing with now,” Connor says, trying not to sound desperate, and to his own ears, failing, “I know you literally email Evan all the time, are you honestly telling me he’s _never_ mentioned to you that stuff has been tense between us?” 

Jared presses his lips together, which is as good as a confession and Connor pushes away deep nagging thoughts about what exactly Evan has told him. This is too important to get caught up in a wave of self-doubt and paranoia. 

“It doesn’t have to be forever. I know he’s like your middle school sweetheart or whatever, but if he knows right now stuff is going to go from awkward to awful,” Connor can feel tears just starting to pool in the corners of his eyes, “Jared, please.” 

Jared breaks, “Fine. Okay. I won’t tell him. I mean he already knows I was sleeping with some guy so at least that’s, like, half the truth, so it’s probably not as bad.” 

Connor sighs, letting out all the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah,” Jared says, “Don’t mention it. Like, literally. Don’t.” 

Connor rolls his eyes, “Obviously.” 

There’s a long silence that stretches between them before Jared finally breaks it, shaking his head. “It’s nice to see you, asshole. Even if the circumstances suck ass.” 

“Yeah,” Connor says, the hint of a smile threatening the edge of his mouth. “I guess I know why you didn’t fucking text me for a week.” 

“It’s been a weird week,” Jared says thoughtfully. “Anyways, I do actually have to pee and I’d rather not spend any longer in here lest Evan think I’m in gastrointestinal distress.” 

Connor rolls his eyes again, but takes the hint and closes the bathroom door behind him and heading downstairs. He still feels reasonably shook up about the whole situation, but the immediate clusterfuck of Jared telling Evan is at least put to bed. And for the first time since he opened the door to Jared on the porch he feels like he might actually be able to eat something. 

Jared had slunk back down to the basement at some point, while Connor had pointedly ignored him, pulling handfuls of cutlery out of a drawer. He’s midway through setting the table when his mom, Heidi, and Zoe show up with food, and start unloading things onto the kitchen island. 

“Thank you for setting the table, you’re a star,” his mom says, cutting up a lime. “Can you go grab Evan and Jared please?” 

Connor wants to point out that Zoe’s not even doing anything so why can’t she go get them, but that comes off as more than a little unnecessarily petty and he’d rather not show his hand about Jared to his mom. So he just huffs and slinks over to the top of the basement stairs. 

“Food’s here!” He calls and pretends not to notice when Jared’s hair is a lot more messed up than it was in the bathroom twenty minutes ago. 

It is a lot easier to be in the same room with them when he’s got a plate of Mexican food in front of him and a non-alcoholic mojito (which is mostly just limeade with mint), plus the added buffer of his mom, Heidi, and Zoe, all of whom seem to have a million questions for him and Jared so neither of them ever really have to talk to each other. 

“So how’d you get your shit together?” Zoe asks Jared at one point, leaning forward over her plate of chips and salsa. 

“Like with Evan, or just in general?” Jared says. “Because I’ve really not managed to do the latter one at all.” 

Yeah, no shit Sherlock, Connor thinks, but honestly he’s also curious about how Jared had managed to get over his weird emotional constipation about Evan in a single week of being home. He’d put up with enough of Jared’s mooning last semester, but it had always seemed like Jared was resigned to his crush being unrequited forever. 

“With Evan, obviously,” Zoe says, aggressively dipping a chip into some salsa. “We all know you don’t have your general shit together.” 

“Zoe,” His mom says, but Jared just laughs and puts a hand over his heart. 

“I am _wounded,_ Zoe. Absolutely slain.” 

Connor looks between the two of them, an uncomfortable prickle at the back of his neck as he realizes...Jared and Zoe have a rapport. Which means this is not the first time they’ve hung out, oh fuck, they’re probably facebook friends and shit. 

Maybe Connor should get a fucking facebook. 

“It’s not even that good of a story,” Jared says with a shrug, “It’s pretty boring, honestly.” 

“It was cute!” Evan protests, and ducks his head, “It was really sweet.” 

“You should tell it then,” Jared says and Connor wonders if he’s the reason he’s dragging his heels so much about this, normally Jared loves being the centre of attention. He’s heard him tell the ‘My mom wrote an article about my dick’ story at at least four different parties to the acclaim of crowds of their drunk peers. 

“It’s your story,” Evan insists. 

Jared catches Connor’s eye and Connor gives him a little shrug, trying to communicate ‘dude I really don’t care’ with his eyes. His problem with the whole situation is Jared’s dating his _stepbrother_ , not because Jared’s the star crossed love of his life or something, for fucks sake. 

“Well, uh, Evan came over right after I had gotten back, and we were like, sitting on the floor because there was a bunch of laundry and junk on my bed and my chair and Evan asked me you know like, had I met any guys or whatever at school,” Jared’s eyes dart towards him and then away so quickly Connor wonders if he’s making the whole thing up. “And I don’t know, I must have just been possessed by a really courageous ghost or something because suddenly I’m like ‘actually the only guy I’m really interested in is one from back home’ and this poor sweet idiot is like ‘Oh? Who?’ So I’m like ‘Uh, well, you?’.” 

Heidi and his mom both make that little clicking noise people do when you show them the picture of a kitten or something, “Anyways so yeah, now we’re here-” 

“-What, no, you just cut out the whole middle bit!” Evan says gesturing with his fork, “That’s, like, objectively the best part.” 

“Alright, alright,” Jared says, “Well okay, so I say that I like Evan and he just sits there kind of blankly for like, a scarily long time, so I was like ‘alright, I see you’re not saying anything, goodbye forever’ and I went to get up, which in hindsight was very dumb given that it was my own house, but then Evan just sort of uh, tackled me? And kissed me? It was very romantic but I also slammed by head super hard on my desk leg and then we spent like twenty minutes trying to figure out if I had a concussion... I didn’t, for the record.” 

“Bummer,” Zoe deadpans, but Evan and Jared aren’t looking at her, they’re making googly eyes at each other. 

Thankfully his mom changes the subject to Zoe’s upcoming graduation and Connor gets to enjoy his enchiladas in peace for a little bit. At one point his mom reaches under the table and pats him on the knee and just looks so genuinely blindly happy that he can’t help but smile back at her. 

After dinner he tries to help with dishes but Heidi waves him off, “It’s _your_ celebration dinner, Connor, you don’t have to do the dishes.” Even though they have a dishwasher so it’s not exactly much of a chore anyways. 

Even after all the stress of the evening, not to mention flying across state lines, Connor’s tired enough to beg off his mom’s suggestion of playing a board game and he doesn’t even manage to get his desk lamp off before he’s flopping into bed exhausted and full of Mexican food. 

At one point his mom comes in to ask if he wants to come down for cake, but Connor just groans and she rubs his back understandingly, turning off his desk light and pulling his covers over him on her way out of the room. 

In the morning Connor gets a text from Jared that says _it’s done_ and spends the next few days mostly trying to avoid Evan. Which is hard because the bathroom in the basement is currently being renovated which means Evan has to troop all the way upstairs at least a few times a day and Connor can always hear him hesitate slightly outside his own room door for a second before going into the bathroom. Connor just turns up the music louder under his thick headphones and goes back to unpacking all his shit. 

Evan is working more hours at Pottery Barn since school is out too, so he hasn’t even been at dinner the last couple of nights. Or maybe he’s been out with Jared. Either way, Connor hasn’t asked and no one else has acknowledged this as anything out of the ordinary. 

His luck runs out on Friday when he’s in the middle of making a snack just as Evan comes up the stairs from the basement and into the kitchen. 

“Heh-ey,” Evan says, managing to make it into a two syllable word against all linguistic odds. 

“Hi,” Connor says, setting the knife he’d used to make peanut butter toast into the sink. 

“How’re you doing? Long time no see” Evan says, like they’re estranged buddies from high school bumping into each other at Meijer and not two people who live in the same house and call the same person ‘mom.’ 

“Fine,” Connor says, picking up his plate, and wondering if it’d be rude to just go back to his room. He’s three quarters of the way to saying fuck to courtesy and just getting out of there as quickly as possible when Evan says— 

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out later? With me and Jared?” 

Connor freezes. Okay, so this wasn’t what he had expected from Evan finding out his weird moody stepbrother and his boyfriend were “acquaintances.” Like, really of all the possible scenarios he’d run through in his mind, Evan trying to actively make him a third wheel was not one he’d even thought possible, let alone spent any time preparing for. 

And it doesn’t even seem to be a begrudging thing, Evan looking at him eagerly, like there’s nothing he’d rather do than have Connor crash alone time with his boyfriend. 

“Connor?” Evan asks, and fuck he’s been staring at him not saying anything way too long.

“Sorry,” Connor says, snapping out of it. 

“So, do you want to?” Evan says again, “Hang out with us? I think we were probably just gonna watch Netflix and chill.” There’s a pause as Evan realizes what he’s just said, “I mean not like, not like, _Netflix and Chill_ ,” he gives a little shoulder shimmy, “Just like, uhhh, you know, just actually watch Netflix and actually chill. Out.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Connor mutters under his breath as Evan finally squeezes out the end of his little ramble. 

“Anyways, sorry, you know that. Obviously. I just, uh, so do you wanna? Hang out with us?” 

“No,” Connor says, pushed out of him on an incredulous little laugh before he can really think about it, Evan’s face falling. “Sorry, I just, I’m in the middle of this book right now and I wanted to finish it this afternoon because I have work this weekend,” Connor rushes out in a secondhand wave of guilt. 

“Okay,” Evan says, giving a half hearted little smile, “That’s totally cool. And like we can super do it another time I just thought like. Since you and Jared are like, friends, it might be kinda fun.” 

“Sure, maybe another time,” Connor fucking lies and then flees up to his room with his toast and he’s half surprised that he didn’t break the plate, his fingers stiff from where he’d subconsciously been white knuckling the edge. 

Even with headphones and his door closed Connor can’t help but hear when Jared comes over a few hours later. He’s trying hard to pretend that he can’t, but he keeps subconsciously straining to hear even when he doesn’t want to. It doesn’t help that Jared has such a distinctive vocal cadance and the loudest most obnoxious laugh ever. 

Eventually Connor decides to hedge his bets and go read outside on the front porch where hopefully he’ll be able to block them out a bit easier. He catches half a glance of Evan practically lying on top of Jared on their couch, his long legs falling off the side, and he rolls his eyes has he pulls the door shut behind him. 

Their front porch isn’t much of a porch, really just the top of their front steps, but his mom had stuck a chair and a planter out here and he knows she’d be thrilled that someone is actually getting some use out of her little Pinterest design project. Connor’s tall enough that sitting in the chair he can kick his feet up onto the railing on the other side and it’s comfortable enough for him to stick his headphones on and attempt to get into _The Goldfinch_ which he’d grabbed at the airport on his way home and was not nearly as enthralled with as he’d told Evan to get out of the world’s most awkward third wheel scenario. 

He’s trying to will himself through yet another scene of long winded furniture repair when he catches sight of someone out of the corner of his eye. He looks up from the page to see a guy standing at the edge of his driveway holding a large fluffy black and white dog on a leash and waving slightly to get Connor’s attention. 

Connor kicks his legs off the wrought iron railing, pulling his headphones off and putting the book carefully facedown so it won’t bend the spine. 

“Hey,” the guy says smiling, and oh fuck, now _this_ is Connor’s type. Tall, dark hair, muscular but in a sleek athletic way rather than in an ‘I spent too much time at the gym and think protein powder is a food group’ kind of way. 

“Hi,” Connor says, hoping his hair doesn’t look too stupid from his headphones. 

“Hey,” the guy says again as his dog sniffs at the perimeter of their lawn, “I live at 467, I think we got some of your mail?” 

“Oh sure. Easy to flip 467 and 497,” Connor says and then mentally kicks himself because yeah, _obviously_. 

The guy holds out two envelopes and Connor realizes he’s waiting for him to come and get them. The dog sniffs at Connor’s shoes interestedly and he doesn’t mind, even though he’s never been a huge fan of dogs ever since his paternal grandparents’ dog nipped at him when he was five. 

“I’m Jackson by the way,” the guy says sticking out a hand for Connor to shake, and he quickly shifts the envelopes into his other hand. 

“Connor,” he says, and Jackson squeezes his hand more than shakes it and Connor’s knees turn into jelly. 

“Oh and this is Bernadette,” Jackson says dropping Connor’s hand and giving his dog an affectionate little pat on the head. “She’s super chill and friendly if you want to pet her.” 

Connor gives her a small pat on the head and she noses into his leg affectionately. “What kind of dog is she?” Connor asks, even though he knows literally nothing about dog breeds and he’s fully aware that he’s just trying to get this cute boy to talk to him longer. 

“She’s a Bernedoodle,” Jackson says. “So a Bernese mountain dog and a poodle cross, super smart and sweet and that’s why she’s got such a fluffy coat.” 

Connor nods and makes what he hopes is an appropriately impressed noise. Bernadette noses at his leg once more before becoming disinterested and starting to try and tug Jackson away. 

“She knows she gets dinner when we get home,” Jackson says with a laugh, “Anyway, I hope I see you around Connor, it was nice to meet you.” 

“Yeah you too,” Connor says, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

“Enjoy your book!” Jackson says as he sets off. “And your mail!” 

“You too,” Connor calls after him, and he’s so high on actually managing to talk to a cute boy that it takes a full forty five seconds for the realization and the self loathing to kick in, which is practically a new record. 

“‘ _You too_?’ C’mon man,” Connor mutters to himself under his breath, retrieving his book from under the deck chair and trying to settle back in for the long haul. 


	2. June.

**June.**

Weirdly, things actually mostly manage to get better of their own accord over the next few weeks. Or maybe not quite of their own accord, since Connor’s files from school come into his regular therapist and he starts having sessions again during the middle of May. He never tells his therapist the whole truth about the Jared stuff, but he does talk to her a lot about the Evan weirdness, and even just being able to talk about it with someone seems to make the whole thing less painfully awkward.

And while he mostly turns down Evan’s invitations that the three of them should hang out together, he can handle making five minutes of small talk with them here and there. Also Jared has actually started texting him again so while things aren’t exactly like they were the semester before they’re approaching normal.

Also with Connor and Evan both working in the next city over it makes the most sense for the two of them to carpool together, and while it’s more than a little bit awkward at first they start to settle into a good rhythm by the end of May/early June. They’ll make small talk for the first few minutes and then Connor will put on a spotify playlist and they’ll spend the rest of the ride in comfortable silence. And while Evan does seem occasionally terrified of him still, it’s a marked improvement. 

He has the opening shift at the bookstore on Saturday, but when he comes downstairs Evan’s not at his usual spot at the kitchen island, just Zoe eating a bowl of the fancy organic Reese's Puffs their mom buys at Whole Foods and leafing through a glossy college brochure.

“Where’s Evan?” Connor asks, pulling the fridge open and grabbing a slice of leftover cold pizza out of the box from last night. He’s careful to avoid the pieces from the pizza Evan and Jared had split, a concoction Connor was far too familiar with that Jared liked to call “Vegetarian Hell Pizza” which was basically just every vegetable ingredient with a stupid amount of hot peppers. 

“Evan?” Zoe says, “Not sure, haven’t seen him.” 

Connor frowns checking his phone for the time. He doesn’t need to be there until just before 11, and he’s the only one opening so it’s not like it really matters if he’s a few minutes late. But it’s already 10:25 and it’s a twenty minute drive and with Evan’s compulsion to be early to _everything_ it’s super weird that he’s not already upstairs and lingering over by the door while Connor eats breakfast. 

“Huh, weird,” Connor says, and leans against the kitchen island, half expecting Evan to thud his way up the stairs any minute. When he hasn’t emerged by twenty to he sends him a quick _you ready to go?_ Text and taps his fingers on the island. 

“Dude just go downstairs, he probably overslept or something,” Zoe says still reading her brochure. 

Connor huffs. Even when he’s not actively avoiding Evan he hates going down into the basement. Especially since the last time he’d gone down there to restart the router he’d definitely heard Evan and Jared getting up to something nsfw. It’s not even like they were even being loud or obnoxious or anything, and had Connor not had any personal experience with exactly the kind of noises Jared made he honestly probably wouldn’t have noticed. 

But as it were, he totally did, and that didn’t exactly make him eager to head back into the basement, especially since Jared seemed to be sleeping over more often. Jesus christ, if he was late for work because his stepbrother is getting laid he’s honestly going to- 

His phone vibrates with a new text from Evan: _Sorry! Outside now._

Connor looks out the window and sees his mom’s crossover pulled in front. Zoe cranes over to see what he’s looking at. “Huh, I guess he was at Jared’s,” she says disinterestedly going over to put her bowl in the sink. 

Connor grabs his keys and his bag, shoving his feet into his boots and resigning to having to tie them up in the car. He’s gonna be a few minutes late, but hopefully no one will be clamouring outside waiting to buy their used books so he should be fine. 

“Hey, sorry,” Evan says through the rolled down window as Connor half jogs to the car, “I totally spaced, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Connor says pulling open the door and climbing in, he’s halfway to clicking in his seatbelt when he looks over and actually gets a look at Evan. 

He’s a bit rumpled over all and he’s got a half formed hickey under his jaw, but that’s a lot less alarming than what he’s wearing. 

“Are you okay?” Evan asks. 

Connor blinks at him, finally pulling his seatbelt the rest of the way across his chest. “Is there a particular reason you’re wearing Jared’s Best Buy uniform?” 

Evan’s eyes go wide and he looks down at his polo shirt, which to be fair looks enough like a fair number of the polo shirts he owns that Connor can imagine that it’s the kind of mistake one might make when they’ve just woken up and are trying to pull their clothes off their boyfriend’s floor so they can go pick up their stepbrother who can’t drive. 

“Oh shit,” Evan says, “Crap. I guess I’ll just swing back by Jared’s after I drop you off.” 

Connor huffs a laugh to himself, turning to his untied boots, skipping their normal five minute convo of pleasantries and going straight into a spotify playlist. 

They’re about halfway there when Evan’s phone starts ringing, “Shit, can you get that?” Evan asks, looking over his shoulder to make a lane change. 

Connor pulls his phone from the cup holder and really wishes he could be surprised when he sees Jared’s name followed by a purple heart emoji. He’s not really feeling up to having this conversation with Jared alone so he answers the call and puts him on speaker. 

“Good morning handsome,” Jared croons out over the speaker and yeah, Connor’s already thankful for his choice. 

“Haha hey Jared,” Evan says, laughing awkwardly, “I’m driving, you’re on speaker.” The _please don’t say anything inappropriate_ left unsaid. 

“So I got called in last minute for work and I’m pretty sure you walked off with my uniform shirt, as I have one blue polo shirt here and it’s definitely not mine.” 

“Yeah sorry, I grabbed your shirt, can I come bring it to you after I drop Connor off?” 

“Oh,” Jared says, his voice going flat and weird. “Is Connor with you?” 

“Yeah I’m the one playing secretary,” Connor says and Jared laughs nervously over the line. 

“Ohh hey man,” Jared says and Connor might be sitting still but mentally he is slapping his forehead. If Jared is going to be hooking up with his stepbrother Connor would really like if he’d just fucking commit to it instead of acting like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar everytime Connor witnesses them doing anything even remotely coupley. 

“So I’ll come give it to you a little after 11, is that okay?” Evan says again. 

“Well you see, here’s the problem,” Jared says. “I didn’t look at your shirt very closely and just shoved it in a bag with my work pants and I’m supposed to have a meeting with my supervisor right at eleven so if there’s _any_ chance you can come drop that off so I don’t have to meet with my boss, who is an older straight white dude, wearing a shirt that says ‘I’ve heard enough from old straight white men.’” 

“Can you not wear my shirt for like ten minutes?” 

“I mean I _could_ but it’s like a size and a half too small and I’d also love to not look like an out of shape twink in front of my boss.” 

Evan sighs and taps the wheel, clearly conflicted, so Connor puts him out of his misery. “It’s fine, I can be a couple of minutes late. I’m literally the only one working today so it’s not like it’s a big deal.” 

“You sure?” Evan says and Connor nods. 

“Yeah it’s totally fine,” he says, and it really isn’t a big deal, even though it’s annoying that he’s the one who’s going to be inconvenienced by something that was their fault in the first place. But he’d rather be fifteen minutes late for work than suffer through the rest of the drive with Evan in panic mode, so it’s really the lesser of two evils. 

“Okay awesome, thanks Connor, I totally owe you one dude,” Jared says, which is quite possibly the understatement of the year and Connor has to hold back a barking incredulous laugh, aiming for more of a cough. 

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot then?” Evan says, getting into the exit lane. 

“Yup, I’ll see you in a few babe,” Jared says, and then hangs up. 

Connor stares at Evan’s phone incredulously for a second before he puts it back into the cupholder. 

As promised Jared is waiting in the parking lot, leaning up against the hood of his car and he gives them a little wave as Evan pulls into the spot beside him and hops out of the car. Connor’s not totally sure how he expected this exchange to go down, he really had not put any thought into it, but he’s definitely not expecting Jared to whip his shirt off at 10:52 am while there are, like, people around. 

He’s also not expecting to have a Pavlovian response to said shirtless Jared and he stares down at his crotch in horror and betrayal. 

It’s not that it doesn’t make sense, because yeah historically speaking seeing Jared without a shirt meant that Connor was going to get some in the very near future, but the logic of it doesn’t stop Connor’s annoyance at the whole thing. He turns away from the window and shoves his messenger bag on his lap, and he’s basically calmed down by the time Evan climbs back into the car in his own shirt. 

“You’re a lifesaver, babe,” Jared says, leaning his whole upper body through the window to give Evan a kiss. 

“Don’t thank me, you’d totally be in hot water if Connor hadn’t been so nice,” Evan says very sweetly and Jared looks past him to give Connor a little wave in the passenger seat. 

“Thanks for the save, bro.” 

“Yeah don’t mention it,” Connor snaps, knowing he sounds like a dick but he’s still thrown off about the whole fucking boner nonsense so he feels like he’s allowed to be a bit pissed. 

“Don’t be late for your meeting,” Evan says and Jared gives him one more kiss. “I’ll call you after work.” 

“Okay, love you,” Jared says. 

“Love you too,” Evan says and reaches over to start the car as Jared backs up and away. 

Once they’re back on their way out of the sprawling commercial district and heading towards downtown where the bookstore is, Evan hedges a cautious glance over at Connor. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m fine,” Connor says with a huff, and then completely unable to help himself, “I didn’t realize you guys had said ‘I love you’ yet,” he adds trying and failing to sound uninterested. 

“Oh,” Evan says. “Yeah, I mean, it’s new. Or like, newish. I guess. Like a couple of weeks ago? I think.” And Connor can tell from the way he says it, the way he’s trying too hard to be casual, that Evan’s lying about not being sure when it happened. 

“Hmmm,” Connor says after a long pause and neither of them say anything else all the way to the store. 

After all the Evan and Jared related nonsense of the morning it’s almost refreshing when Connor comes home to some good old-fashioned Larry Murphy drama. Zoe ends up picking up Connor from work, which, thank god for small mercies, and they actually have a pretty nice chat on the drive back. She’s just gotten some job at a local music day camp for kids and she’s in the middle of telling him about the orientation she’d been at that afternoon when they walk into the kitchen to their mom on the phone. 

Connor can tell even from down the hall that she’s talking to someone she’d rather not be, one hand on her hip and a skeptical look on her face as she listens to whoever is on the other end. 

“Look Larry,” his mom says, “This is really something you should be talking to your daughter about—” 

She pauses mid-sentence like she’s been cut off and Connor pushes down the urge to go grab the phone out of her hand and smash it on the kitchen island until it breaks into a hundred crunchy little pieces.

“Fuck,” Zoe says softly under her breath, skipping taking her shoes off and crossing over to their mom quickly and gesturing for the phone, which their mom gratefully hands over to her. 

“Hi dad,” Zoe says, and Connor’s always been in awe at the way she can actually bring herself to talk to their father. Connor had been twelve when his parents separated and thirteen when the divorce proceedings had begun, which had then dragged out for another two years as his dad had forced the whole thing to trial. 

This of course had just happened to overlap with some of the worst years of Connor’s life, socially and mental health wise. A fact that his dad’s lawyers had tried to lambaste his mom over, her loving but sometimes misguided attempts to help him used as fodder against her. Connor knows that his mom tries to see the whole ordeal in a positive light, as it’s ultimately what was responsible for her and Heidi meeting in the first place as Heidi was doing a co-op placement at the lawyers’ office at the time, but Connor just can’t let go of someone using the worst time in his life as a way around having to settle. 

Zoe takes the phone upstairs with her, and Connor’s grateful that she closes her door so he doesn’t have to hear what they’re talking about. His mom’s still standing in the kitchen, rubbing a hand over her forehead exasperatedly and Connor feels a surge of protectiveness stir in him, going over to give her a hug. 

“Oh Connor,” she says, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing his back like he’s the one who needs to be comforted in this situation. 

When she pulls away she reaches up to touch his cheek, smiling at him fondly, “Did you have a good day, sunshine?” 

“Yeah, it was fine,” Connor says, and it’s not even really a lie. Though the morning had been weird, his shift at the bookstore had been pretty good. He likes working on his own and it was just busy enough that there was always something to do without having to run around too much. “How was IKEA?” 

“Fun, we got deck chairs and we’re testing our marriage by trying to assemble them,” she jokes, setting off towards the living room, where Heidi’s sitting on the floor with parts and cardboard boxes scattered around her. 

“I could give you a hand, if you want?” Connor offers. “I don’t really have any other plans.” His mom beams at him and Connor grabs the little instruction pamphlet from the floor beside Heidi. 

They’re about halfway through their second chair when Zoe comes back downstairs, leaning her head into the living room. “Hey, so I’m gonna go out with Marina and Jenny for a bit,” she says, her arms crossed hard over her chest and her voice just slightly raspy like she’s sick. Or she’s been crying. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” his mom says. “Text me if you think you’re going to be out late, okay?” Zoe nods and then disappears out the front door, and Heidi and his mom exchange a knowing look over the half put together skeletal frame of the chairs. 

“What?” Connor asks, unable to help himself. “Why was he calling her?” 

His mom sighs, “Just something to do with Zoe’s graduation.” 

Connor feels all the wind leave his lungs, “Is he coming to that!?” Maybe it was naive of him to think but he’d figured that Zoe wouldn’t have invited him, especially since he hadn’t invited him to his own graduation and he’d never followed up. Or at least, if he’d tried to his mom had never told him. 

“We really don’t know, sunshine,” his mom says. “I told Zoe it was her call if she wanted him to be there or not. And I know this is very hard for you, but if he ends up coming you need to respect her choice.” 

Connor chews at the inside of his cheek and says nothing. Letting out a little sigh his mom stands and crosses over to him, pushing hair away from his forehead and giving him a kiss on the temple. “I’m going to go get started on dinner,” she says finally, wrapping her drapey mom cardigan around her and taking the back way around to the kitchen. 

“You know,” Heidi says after a minute of them fastening bolts in silence, “Evan almost didn’t invite his dad to his graduation last year.”

“Hmmm,” Connor says, not looking up from what he’s doing. 

“Yeah,” Heidi continues, “And Evan hasn’t had an easy go with his dad, obviously very different from what you and Zoe are going through, but not an easy relationship is what I’m trying to say. But even after all of that Evan still invited his dad, not so much because he wanted him there, but because Evan wanted his dad to want to be there.” 

“Alright,” Connor says, not sure exactly what Heidi wants him to take from this. 

“I’m just trying to say, it’s complicated sometimes. Even when people have hurt us and the ones we love, sometimes we still want them to care.” 

“It upset you, then,” Connor says. “When Evan’s dad was at his graduation?” 

Heidi looks down, pressing her lips together before saying, “His dad didn’t end up coming to his graduation. And seeing Evan upset about it hurt me more than having to be in a room with him for an hour would have.” 

Connor’s not really sure what he’s supposed to say to any of that and luckily his mom calls from the kitchen, _“Darling! Can you come give me a hand?”_ stopping him from really having to say anything at all. 

Heidi pats his shoulder as she stands to go help his mom and Connor goes back to the endless sea of IKEA furniture parts. 

They manage to get four of the five chairs finished but end up calling it quits on the last one and settling in to watch an episode of some silly DIY show his mom and Heidi are recently obsessed with called _Flea Market Flip_. It’s total brain candy, but Connor finds himself weirdly drawn in by the whole thing and is actively rooting against one of the teams by the end of it. 

They’re midway through a second episode when they hear Zoe come in the front door and goes straight upstairs. His mom and Heidi share another concerned look and Heidi rubs his mom’s shoulders. “I’m sure she’s fine.” 

“You’re probably right,” his mom says after a long pause. 

Connor picks at his nails, which he really needs to repaint, shit, and then stands. “I’m going to go make hot chocolate, do you guys want anything?” 

“You’re so sweet, I’m okay though. Darling?” His mom says. 

“Yeah I’m fine too, thanks Connor,” Heidi says smiling up at him. 

In the kitchen Connor digs around in the cupboard for a while, managing to pull out the fancy christmas hot chocolate from the very back while he puts the kettle on to boil. He also manages to find a weird can of coconut milk non-dairy whipped cream and there’s no chocolate sauce or marshmallows but there’s a half empty tin of sprinkles so Connor goes for broke and adds some of those on top of the mounds of whipped cream. 

He’s halfway upstairs, balancing the two hot mugs slightly precariously when he realizes that he’s not going to have any hands to knock on Zoe’s door, so he taps on the bottom of her door with his foot, “Hey Zoe?” 

“What?” she calls through the door. 

“I made hot chocolate, do you want one?” 

A pause then. “Did you use water or milk?” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Water, but I put a lot of milk in too and there’s whipped cream.” 

Another pause before Zoe’s door swings open. “Okay I’ll take it,” she says, making grabby hands for the mug and taking it and setting it down on her desk. Connor lingers awkwardly in the doorway, unsure as to whether he’s supposed to come in or leave. 

“Well?” Zoe says finally, “You gonna come in or what?” 

“Oh,” Connor says, taking a step into her room and closing the door behind him. 

Zoe climbs onto her bed and sits cross-legged so Connor takes the hint and sits at her desk, rolling himself idly back and forth. Zoe doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, blowing on her hot chocolate before finally taking a small sip and making an approving noise. 

“Don’t think I don’t know why you’re here,” she says, finally, setting her mug back down. 

Connor’s startled by that, spilling a bit down the front of his shirt, “Ahhh fuck,” he says, dabbing at his shirt with the edge of his hoodie, as he continues. “You knew I was gonna come talk to you about Evan and Jared?” 

“What? I— no actually,” Zoe says frowning, “Why, what happened with Evan and Jared? Unless you’re just talking about the shirt thing cause Evan already texted me about that.” Zoe must catch his look because she adds, “Don’t get all pouty, when was the last time you texted me?” 

“Touche,” Connor says, and makes a mental note to try and actually text her more, especially now that their lives actually overlap and he usually has more to say than ‘why the fuck did I think I could do this 8:30 am class.’ 

“So it _was_ the shirt thing?” Zoe says.

“Not really. Uh, so we went to Best Buy, right? So Evan could give Jared his shirt back.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Connor chews his lip and decides to jump to the end (especially because Zoe really does not need to know about the little Pavolovian experiment that took place), “Did you know they were, like, at the point of saying ‘I love you’?” 

Zoe tilts her head. “I mean, I didn’t _know_ they were, but that’s not really surprising.” Connor nods, considering. “Why?” 

“I don’t know, it just seemed kind of...soon,” Connor says, struggling to put his weirdness about the whole thing into words without completely revealing his cards to Zoe. Which is even more crucial given that she and Evan seem to have grown pretty close over the last year. He knows if she ever found out about him and Jared, or even came close to figuring something out, that she would tell Evan in a heartbeat. 

Zoe regards him for a long moment, and Connor starts to feel itchy and hot under the scrutiny. “Dude, what?” he finally says. 

“You’re worried about them getting hurt, aren’t you?” Zoe says and she looks almost….proud? 

Connor’s first instinct is to deny it, because it’s not even about that, but the more he lets it sit the more she’s kind of right. Without really meaning to, he’d sort of given Jared and Evan’s relationship an expiry date at the end of the summer, when he and Jared would go back to school and Evan would stay here. But now that things are getting more serious there’s only really two outcomes: that they’ll break up, and if Evan is seriously hurt he might have to distance himself from Jared in response, or the other side of an equally terrifying spectrum, they make it work long-term and he’s facing Jared as a potential brother-in-law. But at the end of the day, no matter how it shakes out, someone’s going to get hurt. 

“Jesus,” Connor says under his breath and Zoe reaches over to pat him on the arm. 

“You should talk to Evan about it.” 

Connor nods, sipping the last of his hot chocolate. “This coconut non-dairy whipped cream isn’t half bad.” 

“God, you’re so lucky you missed mom’s weird spiral back into elimination diets. I’m so glad Heidi’s here now to talk her off the ledge,” Zoe says. 

Connor nods, picking at his nail polish and Zoe swats at his hands. “Ugh, don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Connor says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I’m gonna repaint them tonight.” He stands to go, grabbing his now empty mug and making a grabbing motion for Zoe’s. 

“You know,” Zoe says, when he’s at the door. “You could repaint them here. If you wanted to? Just chill out.” 

“Oh,” Connor says, “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right back.” 

Zoe nods, pulling her laptop onto her lap and booting it up. Connor goes downstairs to put the mugs in the sink and then makes a quick detour for the bathroom to grab his black polish, a bottle of nail polish remover, and some cotton rounds. Zoe looks up at him when he re-enters her room and Connor settles himself on the pink bean bag chair that had miraculously survived Zoe’s thirteen year old fit of ‘pink is the worst and I hate it.’

It’s nice, the two of them sitting in comfortable silence as Connor methodically strips the polish from his hands and he doesn’t even complain when Zoe puts on one of her indie spotify playlists. She’s pulled her yarn back out and Connor looks up at her as she starts winding it around her arms. 

“I thought you’d finished all your scarves for people from school.” 

“I did,” Zoe says, in a voice trying to hard to be casual. “It’s not for someone at school.” 

Connor frowns, but before he can press the issue there’s a soft knock at Zoe’s door. “Hey it’s me,” Evan calls through the door. 

“It’s open,” Zoe says. 

“Hey,” Evan says to Zoe, and then spots Connor sitting on the floor. “Oh, hey Connor.” 

“‘Sup,” Connor says, and Evan shrugs. 

“I’m just returning, uh…” he flushes and pulls a tube of concealer out of his pocket, waving it back and forth between his thumb and forefinger before crossing over to hand it to Zoe. “Thanks again.” 

“Ha, don’t mention it,” Zoe says gleefully, craning to try and glimpse the underside of his jaw. “You did a good job, I’d have no idea if I didn’t know.” 

Evan lets out a laugh that’s more a hard puff of air. “Thanks. Anyways, I’ll leave you guys to it.” 

“You should stay,” Connor hears himself saying. “I mean, like, if you want to. And, like, it’s Zoe’s room so obviously only if she’s okay with it.” 

Zoe looks at him, bemused. “Yeah that’s cool with me. You wanna hang for a bit?” 

“Oh,” Evan says, looking between the two of them, clearly caught off guard by Connor’s request. “Yeah, sure, I’d, I’d love to actually. Just let me get my laptop?” He disappears back into the hall and reemerges a few minutes later with his laptop in tow, settling on the floor by Zoe’s bed, using the footboard as a backrest. 

“You know I have a chair,” Zoe says. 

“Thanks but I’m gay,” Evan says flatly and it’s so unexpected that Connor can’t help the laugh that escapes from him, Evan looking up at him in surprise. 

Zoe pokes him with her foot and then looks at Connor, “You just gonna let him appropriate gay culture like that?” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Not wanting to sit on chairs is gay/bi solidarity.” 

Zoe lets out at low whine and then dramatically resituates herself on the floor. “Happy now?” 

“Oh very,” Connor says, and turns back to his polish. He’s about halfway through his second hand when he catches Evan watching him. “You good?” 

“Yeah, sorry,” Evan says, “You’re just, uh, you’re really good at that.” 

Connor blinks. “Oh. Thanks. Lot of practice.” 

Evan nods. “I could never really get the hang of it.” 

Connor’s hand halts, the brush just above his nail, “You what?” 

Evan flushes again. “I uh, I had sort of um, well _I_ wouldn’t have called it an emo phase but uh, other people have.” 

“Holy shit!” Zoe says. “Pics or it didn’t happen.” 

Evan splutters, “I mean I don’t think I have any on my computer—” 

“—I’m texting Jared, I know he’ll have evidence,” Zoe says, untangling her arms and going for her phone. She crows with laughter a minute later when Jared must come through with evidence, turning her phone to them to reveal a high school aged Evan with a haircut that can only be described as a mid-2000s pop punk wet dream. Straight and shaggy to just above the shoulders with a broad sweep of emo bangs. 

“Were you _straightening_ your hair?” Zoe says incredulously and Evan ducks his head as her phone vibrates again. “Oh holy fuck, Evan what the hell were you _thinking_?” 

Zoe passes her phone over to him so Connor can see and it’s, dear god, it’s somehow _worse_ than the emo bangs, Evan beaming in a school photo where his still shaggy hair has been slicked back and tucked behind his ears. 

“Dude, what the actual fuck,” Connor says, “Why?” 

“I thought it looked...I don’t know, suave?” Evan says, “I don’t know. Leave me alone.” He’s still blushing and not quite meeting their eyes, but he doesn’t seem anxious or upset, just a little embarrassed. Which, frankly, he should be a little embarrassed about both of those bold fashion choices.

A message from Jared pings underneath the picture _The fact that i was still head over heels for Evan during both of these troubled times really says a lot_. Connor hands the phone back to Zoe who pats Evan on the cheek very sweetly while Connor tries to parse out the weird shifting sea of emotions he finds himself cast out on. 

Connor almost wishes he was just jealous. That he had a simple crush on Jared, because then he could at least point to the problem, even though the idea of being in love with his stepbrother’s boyfriend sounds like the kind of hell Connor wouldn’t wish on his worst enemies. But what Connor’s feeling is a lot more complicated than a crush, it’s more like envy and longing and frustration and annoyance blended together until the edges are impossible to define. 

Connor wants, he wants a friend who will stick by him when stuff gets weird and hard and awkward. And someone who will love him like that, who would look at a horrible school photo and still adore him, questionable fashion decisions and all. And he’s scared that he’s going to struggle to ever find anything close to this thing that Jared and Evan seem to have stumbled into out of luck and good timing. 

He just wants for once in his life for everything to not feel so fucking hard, but Connor knows with his track record that might be too much to expect. 

God, speaking of. 

“So,” Evan says, in that trying too hard to be casual way he has. “Is your dad coming to your grad?” 

Zoe sits perfectly still for a long moment before melodramatically collapsing to the floor. 

“I take that you don’t want to talk about it then,” Evan says and Zoe pushes herself back up into a sitting position, she hedges a glance over at Connor, who shrugs. If he’s going to have to be in the same room as his dad in a few weeks he’d at least like a heads up so he can start preparing himself now. 

“No it’s fine, he’s just…” Zoe makes a vague hand gesture as she searches for words, “Like he just wants to _blame_ someone for everything always. So he called mom I guess because he was all mad he hadn’t been told anything about my grad, so then I was like, ‘okay well do you want to come?’ and he got all mad because I was being inconsiderate of the fact that he’d had to drive in all the way from Chicago and that’s a four hour drive or whatever. And he just wouldn’t accept that like, I need to know if he’s coming or not so I can make sure he has a literal place to sit and he kept just being like ‘I need to play it by ear, I’m busy’ like, fuck you dude.” 

It’s a good thing Connor’s nails are still drying because not really being able to touch things stops him from playing with his rings or touching his hair anxiously. “So what’re you gonna do?” 

Zoe sighs. “I mean, I really don’t think he’s gonna come, but I’ll probably see if I can add an extra seat to my section, and if he doesn’t show, I don’t know, Evan can bring Jared or something.” 

“God that’s so fucking typical of him,” Connor says, shaking his head and trying hard not to care that as fucked up as this is, their dad hadn’t even kind of tried to get invited to Connor’s graduation. Which he’d mostly only gone to out of spite to show up all the fuckers in his grade who loved to make comments about how he’d probably end up flunking out or getting expelled for getting high in the bathrooms. As if Connor was stupid enough to do either of those things. 

“Anyways,” Zoe says, “Our dad’s the worst, what else is new.” 

“I’m sorry though,” Evan says. “Like, I know people always say ‘I know how you feel,’ but really, I know how you feel.” 

“Yeah well,” Zoe says, “Who needs shitty dads when you have two moms.” 

She laughs and Evan smiles, but Connor still feels tension wrapped around him like steel cables. So his dad might be at graduation, but he might not be, which means that Connor’s stuck having to assume the worst of the situation so he’s not caught off guard. 

Though at least he’s got a week and a whole therapist appointment to get his ducks in a row so to speak. Plus it’s not like it’s going to be him and his dad completely alone in a room together, there will be literally hundreds of people around, plus his mom, Heidi, and Evan. He’s not happy, but he’s weirdly proud of himself for how well he’s managed not to spiral into a thousand worst case scenarios. Which, historically speaking, has kind of been his go-to. 

“Well, it’s been real,” Connor says, “But I think I’m gonna hit it.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Evan says standing. “I have opening shift tomorrow.. Because heaven forbid people cannot buy their overpriced home decor at ten in the morning on a Sunday.” 

“Night,” Zoe says. “Close my door on your way out.” 

Connor’s already got his room door open when Evan says from down the hall, “Hey Connor?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Thanks again for this morning, you honestly didn’t have to do that and it was really cool of you to help Jared like that,” Evan says, and god damn he’s so fucking _earnest_ about it. 

“Yeah, well, I mostly didn’t want you to have to be stressed out about it, I know that kind of stuff makes you super anxious” Connor says, surprising himself with his own honesty. 

“Oh,” Evan says, “That’s, wow, that’s. Thanks.” 

“But for the record, I’m not gonna be so accommodating if it happens again, so maybe take it as a sign from the universe that maybe you need to reassess your style if your wardrobe is that easily mistaken for that of a Best Buy employee.” 

“Fair,” Evan says and smiles at him before heading downstairs and Connor’s not exactly sure what’s happened between them but it feels something like progress. 

As much though as things seem to be heading in at least a better direction with him and Evan, there’s still the looming Larry Murphy-based graduation angst on the horizon. Connor has to call in sick at work for a mental health day for the first time in two years and the self loathing he feels is maybe worse than just going to work would have been. But it’s like he’s trapped in a snow globe of shitty parenting, and all the things he’d thought he’d worked so hard to melt away had never really disappeared at all, and all they needed was a good shake to come raining back down on him. 

It’s not a good day. It’s exactly the opposite of a good day and even when things are feeling slightly better the day after, his mom practically has to drag him to an extra session with his therapist, Jocelyn, that she’d cleared her schedule to add in for him. Which just makes him feel guilty on top of the entire thing. 

Thursday is….it’s not quite okay. It’s fine. It’s eggshell fine and Connor manages to get up at a reasonable time, shower, get dressed, and go for his afternoon shift at the bookstore with minimal fanfare. Though he can tell as soon as he arrives that if a single customer is even slightly impolite to him he’s going to fold like a house of cards. 

Which is why it sort of feels like a miracle when Connor looks up from _We Have Always Lived in The Castle_ and sees Jackson from down the street patiently waiting to check out. 

“Hey!” Connor says, way too loudly and practically jumping to his feet. He’s all ready to mentally berate himself for being too enthusiastic, but Jackson just beams at him and melts all the half formed thoughts in his brain to nothing. 

He’s bumped into Jackson a few more times since the whole thing with the mail, mostly when he’s been out sitting on the front steps, which he’d maybe been doing more since they’d met like that in the first place. There had been a terrifying incident where he’d called out hi to who he thought was Jackson walking their dog, but had turned out to in fact be Jackson’s older brother. Who up close had looked nothing like him, but at a distance they were vaguely similar shaped. Jackson had apparently found it super charming though, and had told Connor as much when they’d bumped into each other while Connor was helping his mom do the grocery shopping at Whole Foods. 

“Hey Connor,” Jackson says brightly, “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Ha ha, yeah,” Connor says, nervously tucking and untucking his hair behind his ears a few times. “I uh, yeah, for a few years.” 

“That’s so funny,” Jackson says, “I come here all the time, we just must be two ships passing in the night.” 

Connor’s heart _thumps_ against his ribcage. “Yeah I guess so,” he manages out. 

A long beat passes before Jackson tilts his head at him and raises his eyebrows, “Are you gonna check me out?” 

“ _What_!?” Connor splutters before his brain can catch up with it, “Oh you mean the. Sorry. You meant your books. Check out you. Okay, sorry. Yeah of course.” Connor says in a rush, trying to duck his head as he does so in the hopes that Jackson won’t notice the furious blush that’s spread across his cheeks. 

He tries not to look at Jackson too much while he rings up his books, barely even registering what they are until Jackson says, “For the record I’m not like, weirdly obsessed with New Mexico or something.” 

Connor pauses, and then looks down at the four books Jackson’s buying, all of which are in fact about New Mexico. “My little brother, well he’s not that little he’s 17, but my youngest brother, Ivan, he’s graduating this week and he’s off to college in Santa Fe so it’s for a grad present.” 

Connor nods. “Oh that’s, that’s really thoughtful, I bet he’ll like them.” 

“Yeah I hope so,” Jackson says. 

“My sister, Zoe, she’s graduating this year too.” Connor supplies, in a totally out of character move. 

“Right on,” Jackson says. “Congrats to her.” 

“Yeah she’s, uh, pretty great,” Connor says, handing Jackson his stack of books, the receipt tucked in the top one. 

“Yeah I don’t find that hard to believe,” Jackson says, pulling out one of those reusable tote bags, the kind that fold up very small into a little pouch, and it’s so endearingly charming that Connor feels his heart start to thump heavily again. 

Once all the books are in his bag Jackson stops and looks over the desk, taking notice of the book Connor’d been reading. “Hmmm Shirley Jackson, huh? Sounds like the name of someone who knows what they’re doing.” 

Then he actually honest to god _winks_ at him and says, “I’ll see you around Connor.”

Connor’s still replaying the entire interaction in his head when Zoe comes by to pick him up a few hours later. “What the hell are you all smiley about?” She says and Connor, who hadn’t even realized he’d still be smiling, reaches up to touch his face nervously. 

“Nothing, just, I had a really good shift.” 

“Uh-huh,” Zoe says skeptically but doesn’t push the issue any further. He wants to ask her if she’s heard anything else from their dad coming to grad, but he knows she would have told him first thing if she’d heard anything. Besides, with their dad no news has always been good news, so despite trying to tell himself to prepare for the worst Connor feels pretty confident that he’s not going to show up. 

Especially when on Friday afternoon Jared rolls up at their door all decked out in a blazer, a button-up shirt, and a nice pair of dark wash jeans. 

“Ha, deja vu,” Jared says when Connor answers the door, even though emotionally speaking the presence of Jared at Zoe’s grad is the entire opposite end of the spectrum than finding out he was dating his step brother, because Jared being here means his dad’s not going to be. 

“Where’s _my_ cactus?” Zoe says, thudding down the stairs in a full face of makeup but still wearing an old band t-shirt and some sweatpants. 

“No cactus, but this is from me and Ev,” Jared says, pulling a white envelope out of his back pocket and handing it to her. 

“Oh, that’s actually really sweet,” Zoe says sounding surprised. “I’ll open it later, I gotta finish getting ready.” 

She breezes past them for the hall closet and rummages around until she emerges triumphantly with a pair of sandals that Connor is fairly certain belong to Heidi before heading back upstairs. 

“We meet again,” Jared says with that stupid shit eating grin and Connor can’t help but roll his eyes, fondly exasperated. “How’s shit?” 

Connor shrugs heading into the living room and flopping into a chair, “Shit is fine.” 

“No really,” Jared says following him, “We like, never actually talk anymore. I feel like I have no idea what you’re doing?” 

There’s a part of Connor that wants to snap at him that _maybe_ if Jared actually bothered to text him once in a blue moon and not just say hi to him whenever he came over to hang out with Evan he’d have a better idea of what’s going on in his life. But he knows that’s at the very least a bit unfair, especially when he usually heads either outside or upstairs shortly after Jared arrives. 

“Work is, uh, well it’s work. But, like, it’s fine,” Connor says with a shrug. 

“Ahhh yes the deeply cursed bookstore,” Jared says. “Anyone ended up with any weird haunted objects recently?” 

“Not this week,” Connor says, “but someone did try and buy our cardboard cutout of Captain Picard, which was weird because I was legit unsure whether or not it was for sale.” 

“I mean, can anyone really _own_ the cardboard Picard?” Jared says thoughtfully and Connor hums in agreement. “You look super good by the way.” 

Connor looks down at his outfit, a dark grey shirt with a pattern of white paper cranes and dark wash skinny jeans with his red docs, which he likes to bust out for special occasions. He does look pretty fucking good if he’s being honest, but he just scoffs at Jared. “You’re dating my stepbrother, dude, calm down.” 

Jared snorts. “I’m just window shopping.” 

“Is it really window shopping if you already tried it out?” Connor muses and they both laugh over the sound of the front door opening and Evan walking in. 

“What’s so funny?” Evan says brightly, and Jared balks as he comes over to kiss him hello. 

“Oh just, this and that, you know,” Connor says vaguely, waving a hand, even as his pulse picks up at the close call. It feels even more dangerous now if Evan finds out, everything starting to hang together but precariously so. Balanced right on the edge of the precipice. 

Evan kisses Jared on the side of the head once more and Jared squeezes his hand once before letting go, Evan slipping downstairs to change out of his work clothes. 

Jared raises his eyebrows at Connor, a wordless sigh of relief, but the easy energy from earlier is gone, replaced with something tense and brittle. They both jump when Connor’s mom calls from upstairs, _“Sweetheart!?”_

Jared shoots him a look when Connor doesn’t react, flicking idly through his phone for the sake of having something to with his hands. “Should you go see what she wants?” Jared asks. 

“Oh, she’s not calling me, she’s calling Zoe,” Connor says and is almost immediately vindicated with Zoe calling back _“Yeah mom?”_

“Are you psychic?” Jared asks. 

Connor looks up from his phone, “Oh no we uh, she only calls all of us one pet name.” 

“What!?” 

“Yeah I have no idea why, but it makes stuff less confusing, at least some of the time.” 

Jared mulls this over. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing that. Weird.” 

Connor shrugs. “I guess.” 

“How does she pick, though? Like does Evan have one? Did she just go through a trial period of trying different pets before settling on the Ultimate Evan Petname?” 

“I actually don’t remember,” Connor says. “It probably happened while I was at school.” 

Jared stares at him for a long moment, lost in thought. “Dude what?” Connor finally asks. 

“Nothing, I just. That must have been super weird for you, like, coming home and everyone here was on a whole routine you weren’t a part of. ‘Cause your mom and Heidi got married like, what, last August? So there was only a little bit of time before you even left.” 

Connor opens his mouth to respond but finds he’s truly at a loss for words at Jared putting together his familial situation like that. Leave it to Jared Kleinman to somehow be both the most emotionally constipated person Connor has ever met, while simultaneously pitch perfect at reading social situations from an emotional perspective. 

“Okay, you’ve gotta tell me,” Evan says emerging from the basement in light tan pants with a brown belt and a denim button up shirt, “Does this look dumb?” 

Jared let’s out a low appreciative whistle. “No babe, you look hot.” 

“Yeah, that’s really the tone I’m going for for my sister’s graduation,” Evan says, pushing up his sleeves. 

“Oh hey, please solve this mystery for us,” Jared says, which is a nice distraction from Connor getting too hung up on the fact that Evan is apparently calling Zoe _his_ sister now. “What’s your Ultimate Cynthia Murphy Petname? And was there some sort of trial process in which you were bestowed this petname?” 

“Oh,” Evan says, sitting on the arm of the couch. “It’s honey, and I’m pretty sure she just picked it up from my mom, actually. Cause that’s what she’s always called me.” 

“Huh,” Jared says, “Well, that’s alright I guess. So you’re honey, Zoe’s sweetheart.” 

Evan nods. “Mhmm, and then my mom is darling and Connor is, uh.” 

“I’m sunshine,” Connor says flatly, arms crossed over his chest defensively, but Jared doesn’t laugh he just puts a hand over his heart. 

“Sunshine. Oh that is _precious_. Little emo sunshine,” Jared says. 

Evan slaps Jared lightly on the arm, “Hey Jare, remember that whole thing about being _nice_ to people.” 

“I am being nice!’ Jared protests, and then turns to Connor. “No honestly I think that’s adorable.” 

“Don’t listen to him,” Evan says, “his parents call him puppy sometimes.”

Jared scoffs in betrayal. “Oh my god that was revealed to you in the _strictest_ of confidences, Evan!” 

Connor snorts and Jared glares at him. “If you make a furry joke I will literally never talk to you again.” 

Connor holds up his hands, “I would never even dream of it, bro.” 

Any subsequent discussion is cut off, however, by his mom, Heidi, and Zoe all emerging from upstairs looking incredibly put together. His mom insists on them doing a whole series of photos outside the house. Zoe with him and Evan, Zoe with just him, Zoe with his mom and Heidi, Zoe with all of them minus Jared and then one or two with Jared for good measure. They’re not quite running late by the time they get to the school, but they’re cutting it a bit close, Zoe disappearing almost immediately into a group of other graduating students to go get her cap and gown. 

The business of the whole thing is a nice distraction from Connor having to think too long about being back at his old high school, dreading getting caught in a conversation with any of his old teachers or classmates. That’s the main reason he hangs back from the crush of people waiting close to the auditorium doors, he figures they have reserved seats so there’s no reason to try and push his way to the front. Besides, his mom and Evan are waiting to go in while Heidi and Jared poke around the displays on student excellent, pointing things out to each other. 

Connor’s debating whether he wants to navigate through a whole crowd of people to try and slip to the bathroom before this whole thing kicks off when a woman says, “Connor?” just to his left. 

He turns, and blinks at a redheaded woman he doesn’t know in a halter dress. He’d guess she’s about thirty-five, which is a bit young for most of the parents here, maybe someone’s aunt or something. 

“Yeah?” Connor says, hesitantly, but she just beams at him. 

“Oh, you look _just_ like your pictures I knew it was you,” She says, and then, hugs him. Connor’s too thrown off to even step back so he just stands there, frozen, while she leans up and hugs him. “God it is so nice to finally meet you. I’ve been bugging your dad for _ages_ to meet you kids.” 

“My...dad?” Connor says, his mouth going dry. 

“I know it’s a bit of a trek,” she continues, “I mean it was almost a five hour drive with traffic, but of course it’s absolutely worth it to be here for Zoe.” 

Connor blinks, the gears in his brain turning wildly in time to the rapid beating of his heart, “My dad is here,” he says, a flat realization more than a question. 

“Of course!” The woman, his girlfriend presumably, says. “He’s just parking the car so I came in to see what was up.” 

“Oh-kay,” Connor says, and he honestly feels like he might puke. “Sorry I need to. Excuse me.” 

Everything in him wants to run to the bathrooms, to lock himself inside one of the stalls and never come back out, but he has to tell his mom. And he finds himself pushing through the crowd, muttering half-hearted excuses until he reaches his mom, still standing with Evan. 

“Mom,” he says, voice cracking, “Mom.” 

She turns to him already in full protective mama bear mode. “What’s wrong?” 

“Dad’s here,” he manages to squeeze out. “He brought some, some lady, I guess they’re….she’s his girlfriend I think?” 

She looks over his shoulder, face going dark with realization, and she steps around Connor, like she’s going to single handedly shield him from this no matter what it takes. “I don’t know what in god’s name he’s thinking, he’s not going to have anywhere to sit, let alone for his lady friend.” 

“What’s going on?” Heidi says, appearing to the side and his mom shakes her head. 

“Larry showed up, after repeatedly ignoring Zoe’s messages asking whether or not he was coming.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Heidi murmurs, wrapping a comforting arm around Connor’s mom, who leans into the embrace. 

“I wish I could say this was a surprise or particularly out of character for him, but…” his mom trails off. 

Evan who’s been watching all this happen looks nervously between Connor and their moms, biting his nails. 

“What do you want to do?” Heidi asks his mom. “What do we think Zoe would want?” 

His mom rubs her forehead. “I mean, she did invite him.” 

“Why don’t we go see if we can talk to whoever’s in charge and see if he’ll even have somewhere to sit,” Heidi says and his mom nods, the two of them breaking off to press through the crowd. 

Evan looks at him with trepidation, and as scared as Connor is right now, he’s less scared of his own fear and more scared of tipping off the edge into rage. That white blinding all-consuming rage that no one but his dad has ever been able to bring out in him. The rage that his dad used as a weapon against his mom, putting him on the stand and having his lawyer buddy prod at Connor until he exploded into a hundred fiery pieces. 

He cannot do that. Not now, not here. And Evan looking at him like he’s a ticking time bomb really is not helping at all. 

“What’s going on?” Jared says, suddenly appearing from the crush of the crowd. 

“Connor and Zoe’s dad is here,” Evan says, voice pitched low and serious, which is not at all what Connor was expecting. None of the tightly wound nervous energy Evan usually gets when he’s upset, just calm seriousness. Connor wonders if he has an anxiety loophole where other people’s crises bring out a clearheadedness he doesn’t have about his own. 

“Shit dude,” Jared says, “Should I like….leave? I know I’m technically sitting in his spot.” 

Evan shakes his head. “He brought someone with him so we’d still be a person short and uh…” Evan trails off but Jared seems to know what he was going to say anyways. _Please don’t go, please don’t leave me_. 

“Hey dude, careful,” Jared says, reaching out to tap Connor’s hand. “You’ll break your finger.” 

Connor looks down and realizes that he’d been pulling on one of his rings pretty hard without realizing it and he slowly pulls one hand away from the other. “Do you wanna go get some fresh air or something?” Jared says slowly, with the kind of uncharacteristic kindness in his voice that freaks out Connor more than anything else. If Jared’s trying this hard to be nice he must really look like shit. 

And as much as he’d just love to leave the building, to leave and keep walking and put as much distance between himself and his dad as he physically can, he can’t do that. He needs to be here for Zoe, so Connor just shakes his head and stays rooted to the spot, Evan and Jared swapping identical looks of concern. He’s torn between desperately wanting to know where his dad is, terrified that he’ll sneak up on him, and being afraid of seeing him at all. 

It’s not a good place to be stuck. 

“Oh jeez,” Evan says softly, eyes cast over Connor’s shoulder, and he turns to see his mom and dad talking to each other, his mom’s back tense and his dad gesturing too much, taking up too much space. The body language of two people who are having an argument in public but are pretending not to, something Connor has seen enough of to last a lifetime. It does help a little that this time his mom has Heidi standing defensively behind her while his dad berates her. 

His mom presses her lips firmly together and then stalks off, his dad still trying to argue after her as she makes her way back through the crowd towards them. There’s a tenseness in her shoulders that Connor remembers being there often as a kid, but it’s become so foreign now and he feels his hands ball into fists of his own accord. 

Heidi rubs his mom’s back with one hand, and holds her hand with the other while his mom announces, “Well they managed to find two more spots for your dad and his friend, but he’s refusing to sit at the back. Evan, honey, I’m so sorry to ask you to do this but would you and Jared be okay sitting at the back? I just, I know if he doesn’t get his way he’ll throw a big fit and I don’t want that to be a part of Zoe’s big day.” 

“I’ll do it,” Connor blurts out, “I’ll sit at the back.” 

Everyone turns to look at him. “You don’t have to,” Evan starts, but Connor shakes his head and cuts in. 

“I won’t— I can’t sit with him. I can’t,” Connor says, and he’s aware how desperate he sounds but he doesn’t care. 

Heidi and his mom exchange a look and then turn towards Jared. “I mean, I guess if that works with you, Jared.” 

“Yeah, no, that’s fine with me,” Jared says, eyeing Connor with a mixture of trepidation and concern. Heidi gives the two little seating cards to Jared, and Connor takes slow measured breaths taking a step to the side while the doors to the auditorium open and everyone starts streaming in. 

“Connor,” his mom says, “Are you sure you’re okay? I will take you home if you don’t want to be here.” 

Connor shakes his head. “I want to. I want to be here for Zoe. I’ll be okay, I promise I’m just a bit— it surprised me that’s all.” 

His mom nods, brushing his hair out of his face. “Alright, will you be okay if I go sit down?” 

Connor nods, and it’s not even technically a lie, he’s going to be feeling shitty no matter where everyone else is. His mom touches his arm gently once more before heading off with Heidi to find their seats, Evan lingering behind with Jared for a second. 

“Evan wait,” Connor says, and Evan perks and turns in his direction. 

“Yeah?” Evan asks, worrying with the cuff of his shirt. 

“Can you just, can you make sure that he doesn’t sit beside my mom? I’m sorry to ask you to but, please make sure she doesn’t.” 

Evan nods seriously. “Yeah, I will.” 

“Good. Thank you.” 

“Of course,” Evan says softly, and then with one last look at Jared he follows the flow of the crowd. 

“I guess there’s no point in us hurrying in,” Jared says, “If we’re right at the back.” 

Connor nods, pushing himself off the wall, the tide of fear and anger starting to recede in favour of guilt. Of fucking course he had to go and make Zoe’s graduation all about him. Like he’s done his entire life, making everything about him and what he needs. He knows Zoe tries not to resent him for it, but god how could she not? 

“Hey, earth to Connor,” Jared says, suddenly much closer than he was before, his hands hovering just over his arms. “Do you wanna come with me to get a drink? I don’t know where the water fountain is and it’s going to be hot as fuck in there with all those people.” 

Connor blinks, “Oh, uh, sure, yeah.” 

“Okay cool,” Jared says, “Lead the way.” 

“I know what you’re doing,” Connor says, once they’re out of the crush right in front of the auditorium doors. 

“Hmm?” Jared says, nonchalant, like he’s barely even paying attention. Far too engrossed by some mural on the cinder block painted wall that portrays a calculated diverse group of smiling kids. 

“You’re trying to Blue Unicorn me,” Connor says. “Don’t think you’re smart.” 

The Blue Unicorn was a specific Kleinman de-escalation tactic Connor had gotten up close and personal with during fall midterms. He’d gone over to Jared’s dorm to study for their astronomy midterm, which had eventually devolved into them fooling around. Connor had a sort of unofficial rule about not staying over, especially when his room was literally one floor down and a hall away, but it had been so late and Jared had let him crash in his bed while Jared took the weird futon couch he’d inherited from his aunt. 

(Connor would totally have taken the futon because his mom raised him to be a courteous guest, but Jared barely fit on that thing let alone someone as tall as Connor.)

Jared had woken him up from a panicked nightmare about failing, Connor barely able to breathe and drenched in a cold sweat. Despite his insistence that he was fine, Jared insisted on crawling back into his tiny single bed with Connor, tapping a pattern on Connor’s arm while he tried to get his breathing back down. 

He wasn’t trying to be difficult, he really wasn’t, but the fear of another nightmare had kept jerking him back from the edge of sleep and waking Jared up. 

“Whatever you do,” Jared had said sleepily, “Don’t think about the Blue Unicorn.”

“That what?” Connor said. 

“The Blue Unicorn,” Jared said, “Don’t think about it.” 

Which of course was the kind of bullshit reverse psychology that was so stupid it was smart and Connor had managed to drift off thinking about that fucking stupid unicorn and get another few hours of sleep before their midterm. 

“You sleep okay?” Jared had said all smug while Connor sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his socks back on. At the time Connor had wondered why exactly someone like Jared would need to know how to calm someone down from a potential anxiety attack, but it was obvious now that he’d had years of being friends with Evan to refine that expertise. 

Jared plays dumb this time though, pointing out stupid little things on the various murals they pass by on their way to the water fountain. Connor had been expecting to feel more anxiety about being at his old high school, but something about seeing it so empty made the whole thing feel fake. Like he was walking through a movie set of his life and not a real actual place where he’d spent four years that had ranged from insufferable to fine. 

“You know, I’d always sort of imagined you going to school at like, a weird castle or something,” Jared says, ducking his head to drink from the fountain. 

“Nope,” Connor says, not exactly sure where this is going. 

Jared straightens up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I dunno, I had this whole very aesthetic life for you in my mind, you really disappointed honestly.” 

It’s a joke but Connor can hear something else behind it, just for a split second, before Jared’s smirking at him. “Ahh well that’s life I guess, full of disappointment.” 

“Oh yeah I bet it’s been real tough having the guy of your dreams fall into your lap,” Connor says. 

That seems to actually throw Jared off his well-practiced nonchalance. “You— you don’t actually think that’s how it happened, do you?” 

“No offense dude, but I don’t really spend a lot of time thinking about it,” Connor deflects. 

“Alright,” Jared says, “It wasn’t like that though, for the record. Getting together with Evan was, like, one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” 

Connor snorts. “Yeah I bet it was real hard when he tackled you and kissed you.” 

“I’m refraining from making a dick joke because this is Zoe’s special day and she doesn’t need it besmirched,” Jared says, “No but seriously, it took me a really long time to actually be able to have an actual honest conversation with Evan after spending years just being the worst fucking friend you can imagine. I pushed him away over and over and over again as this fucked up test of, like, well if he _really_ cared he would just keep trying even when I gave him no reason to.” 

“Does this have a point?” 

“Yeah it does actually,” Jared says. “I can feel you testing me, pushing me away to see if I’ll come back. And I will, but I really wish you didn’t feel the need to test me in the first place.” 

Connor opens his mouth, but he has no smart comeback, no half hearted deflection, so he just shuts it again. 

“I just, I don’t know about you but I did take the friends part of friends with benefits pretty seriously. And I still do.” 

Connor fiddles with one of his rings, twisting it up so he can spin it around and around and around. “I mean, this is all very nice, Jared, but could you have maybe picked a better time?” 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is actually the first time we’ve been alone together for more than a few minutes in, like, six weeks.” Jared says, and then with a sigh. “Also I totally was trying to Blue Unicorn you.” 

“I _knew_ it,” Connor says, and Jared laughs as he hands their little seating cards to the usher. When his mom said they were right at the back she wasn’t kidding, but luckily the auditorium is steeply sloped enough that it doesn’t really impede their view. Connor tries to make out Zoe sitting in the front with all the other graduates but with the hats everyone looks exactly the same from this far away. 

“So,” Jared says, looking up from his phone. “Evan says that they’re sitting, your dad on the end and then his girlfriend or whatever, Evan, Heidi, and then your mom.” 

“Good,” Connor says, scanning the crowd until he spots them seated about halfway down the middle section. Even from this far away he can recognize that stiff, pissed-off way his dad holds himself when he’s really trying to show How Much Of The Bigger Person He’s Being. But Heidi has her arm around her mom’s shoulders and it’s nice to be able to physically see the barrier of people between his parents. Though he does feel a bit bad that his dad’s girlfriend or whatever seems to be trying to make small talk with Evan, who doesn’t exactly do great with that sort of social nicety to begin with, let alone with some stranger who’s dating his stepmom’s ex-husband. 

Connor’s flicking idly through the program when the lights finally go down and the whole thing starts. There’s a long speech by his old principal which he mostly zones out for, since it’s the same kind of generic uplifting bullshit that she did last year. He’s a bit bummed admittedly that his old vice principal has transferred schools and he won’t get the chance to say hi to her after the ceremony. She’d transferred in for Connor’s junior year and had been the first person to actually take him seriously when he said he wasn’t starting shit or that people were setting him up to flip out. 

Usually when he’d end up getting sent to the office she’d just offer him an orange crush from the mini fridge and let him work on homework in her office, or she’d enlist his help stapling or photocopying something until the end of the period so he wouldn’t have to walk back in during the middle of class. 

She’d also sang opera at the smokers until they would stop and come inside for class, which was quite possibly the most genius thing Connor had ever seen. 

The Valedictorian speech is cliche and boring and Jared snorts loudly and goes, “Oh very original,” under his breath at the end when the poor girl quotes from _Oh The Places You’ll Go_. 

Despite the principal making a big point at the beginning to ask everyone to only clap at the end since the graduation class was several hundred people deep, for almost every person there’s a small smattering of cheers and applause from their family or friends. Which is why he sees the absolute shock and confusion on Zoe’s face when she goes up to accept her diploma, alongside some sort of jazz band award, and their dad cheers loudly. 

After faltering for a second, so small no one else probably noticed Zoe continues across the stage, shaking hands with the principal and then a middle aged woman Connor recognizes as the teacher who runs jazz band. She smiles as they pose for a picture, but Connor can just imagine what’s running through her head right now, because as far as she’d known until that moment their dad hadn’t even shown up. He wonders if she’s worried about him, that she’ll worry that he left, that she’ll worry that their mom left because of course Connor would ruin this just like he ruined so many other—

“Connor,” Jared says quietly, in the kind of tone that makes Connor think he’s probably tried to get his attention multiple times. “C’mon hey, you’re gonna rip your finger off.” 

Connor looks down at his hands, realizing that he’d been tugging pretty hard on the ring he wears on his left pointer finger. He lets go slowly, only to start playing with the looser ring on his pinkie. 

“Connor,” Jared says again, and holds out his left hand over the armrest. Waggling it Connor when he doesn’t take it, before taking matters into his own hands (literally) and reaching out to hold his hand. Connor’s frankly too surprised to react so he’s kind of just stuck rolling with it. Jared however is acting like holding the hand of his boyfriend’s stepbrother is a totally normal thing and he rubs his thumb over the back of Connor’s hand idly, looking back towards the stage as graduates continue to filter through. And while Connor would protest that he’s not a fucking child, the whole thing does actually help ground him, giving him a small thing to focus on that isn’t his dad or his mom or his sister. 

There’s another speech after all the diplomas but everyone’s pretty antsy and Connor’s pretty sure the school board trustee or whoever he is ends up cutting the whole thing short. Jared ends up taking his hand back so he can clap as all the graduates throw their caps in the air. Connor sticks his thumb and pointer into his mouth to whistle and Jared looks at him awestruck. 

“Oh man, I didn’t know you could do that! You _have_ to teach me!” he says excitedly. 

“I’m not teaching you a new skill to be _more_ annoying,” Connor says, craning his neck to try and spot his mom in the crowd as they quickly make their way out of the auditorium. 

“Hey! Hurtful! Annoying people have feelings too,” Jared says, tagging after him, “Should we maybe go wait outside or something? I bet your mom will want to take more pictures.” 

Connor nods, happy to get off the crush of people in the lobby, taking a big deep breath as he pushes through the doors and outside. It’s still pretty bright out, but it’s cooled down, or maybe it just seems like that because it was so warm inside. Either way it’s nice and Connor leans up against the brick wall while people slowly filter out. Smiling grads with big bouquets of flowers take photos in front of the school sign, little kids in uncomfortable outfits running around playing tag. 

Jared sends a quick text on his phone. “Just letting Evan know where we are,” he says, and then leans up against the wall with Connor. 

It takes a few minutes for everyone else to appear, Evan waving at them as they emerge from the school. Well actually, not everyone, Zoe and his dad are notably missing. Which is a bit of a red flag that his mom would leave Zoe alone with him. 

“What’s going on?” Connor asks, “Where’s Zoe?” 

His mom rolls her eyes. “He wants to take Zoe out for dinner, I guess they’re figuring it out right now. I told her I’d pick her up in an hour and a half.” 

Connor looks over his shoulder through the glass panelled walls of the lobby and can just make out Zoe and his dad talking. There’s a split second where his dad looks up and Connor turns back before he can tell if he’d seen him or not, heart hammering. 

But still, all in all it feels weirdly anticlimactic — but good, definitely good — being able to walk away from a dad-related crisis without some kind of big meltdown. Evan and Jared are being all goofy and coupley after being separated for a whole two hours, their joined hands swinging between them as they cross the parking lot to the car. 

“Oh poor Evan,” Jared says in response to something Connor didn’t catch. “Forced to make small talk.” 

“It was awful!” Evan says, completely stone cold serious, “She kept telling me about how medication is poison and we all just need to start rubbing oils on ourselves. 

“Oh yeah,” Connor says. “This peppermint oil is definitely going to help cure the chemical imbalance in my brain. Thanks pyramid schemes!” 

Jared snorts, and Evan seems surprised that he chimed in, but pleased nonetheless.

“I mean it might give you a chemical _burn_ ,” Jared says and all three of them laugh.

His mom still seems a bit off kilter, but Connor figures she’s just frazzled from her ex-husband making an unwelcome entrance. Either way, she asks Evan to drive home since Heidi hates driving the crossover, which she says is like trying to drive a refrigerator compared to her tiny little compact car. 

They’re literally pulling onto their street when Evan’s phone starts ringing. “Oh can someone— ?” Evan asks, and Heidi ends up pushing the phone into Connor’s hands since he’s sitting right behind her. 

Zoe’s name pops up on the screen with a little star emoji at the end and Connor’s mouth goes dry as he fumbles to answer it. “Hello?” 

“Connor?” Zoe says, sounding confused, and there’s the sound of her pulling the phone away from her ear, presumably to check that she did in fact call Evan. “Why are you answering Evan’s phone?” 

“He’s driving, what’s up?” Connor says, his mom perking up beside him, hands held out 

“I just, uh, can you guys come get me?” Zoe says, her voice wobbling so slightly Connor’s pretty sure most people wouldn’t be able to tell. “We’re at Outback.” 

“Uh, yeah just one sec,” Connor pulls the phone from his ear and rests it on his chest, “Zoe wants us to come get her. I guess they’re at Outback Steakhouse?” 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” His mom says flustered, gesturing for the phone, “Let me talk to her.” 

Connor puts the phone back to his ear. “Mom wants to talk to you.” 

“No,” Zoe says sharply, and then less so. “No, I just, I’m literally in the bathroom if I take a long time they’ll know something’s up. Just, when you get here call like there’s an emergency or something.” 

His mom’s still gesturing for the phone but Connor shakes his head at her. “Okay, I have Evan’s phone now so I’ll text you.” 

“Okay.” Zoe says and then hangs up.

His mom looks at him expectantly. “Sorry, she hung up. I guess she was in the bathroom?” Connor says as they pull into the driveway. 

He’s expecting his mom to scold him or give him that disappointed look he _hates_ , he knows she’s upset, but he’s really not expecting her to burst into tears. 

“Cynthia!” Heidi says, turning around in the passenger seat, “Oh baby, it’s okay.” 

“I left her there, how could I leave her? And now something’s happened,” his mom sobs, “I’m a horrible parent.” 

“Oh Cynthia,” Heidi says, unbuckling herself and leaving her door open as she comes around to the side pulling the door open to give her a hug. 

Connor’s frozen in his spot, not sure what exactly he should do as his mom continues to sob into Heidi’s jacket. Heidi runs her hand over his mom’s hair, shushing her gently. This goes on for a few minutes until his mom calms down enough to get out of the car. 

“Can I leave you boys to go get Zoe?” Heidi asks. 

“Yeah, no worries mom,” Evan says, and the three of them sit in a long silence as Heidi and Connor’s mom make their way inside. 

“Shit,” Jared says in a low voice, and shit, Connor had literally forgotten he was here. 

“Jared, I— ” Evan starts in a wobbly voice. 

“ —Yeah no I got it,” Jared says, climbing out of the backseat and coming over to the driver’s side as Evan frantically unclips himself. 

“Connor, uh, do you want shotgun? Or I guess, did you wanna come at all?” Evan asks through the still open side door. 

“She’s _my_ sister,” Connor snaps, a lot harsher than he’d meant to and Evan takes a sharp inhale of breath. 

“Yeah right, of course, sorry,” Evan says, hesitating for a second before blurting. “Uh, shotgun?” 

“You can have it,” Connor says, guilt already starting to creep in. 

“Okay, off we go,” Jared says and then none of them says anything for a good long while. It’s starting to actually get dark out and Evan has to help Jared with the headlights when they pull up to an intersection. Connor starts questioning his insistence that he needed to come the closer they get to the restaurant, and thus his dad. But there was something in Zoe’s tone that had unsettled him, and looking past the fact that she’d called Evan and not him, he still wants to be there for her, whatever had happened. 

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” Jared asks pulling into the lot and parking as close to the door as he can get a spot. 

“Here, let me text her,” Connor says. “Oh sorry, here Evan I still have your phone.” 

When Evan turns Connor can see faint tear tracks on his face, but he has no fucking clue when exactly Evan was crying. 

On his own phone Connor texts Zoe, _ok were here still need a big emergency or can you just leave_

 _Emergency._ Zoe texts back almost immediately. 

“Yeah she says she needs an excuse to leave,” Connor says, “I could call her? Pretend something’s happened.” He really doesn’t want to admit that after insisting on coming that he absolutely _cannot_ go inside and have to see his dad. 

“I could just go in,” Evan says. “I mean, it’s believable,” he adds, waving a hand over his face, “I’ll just say, I don’t know, someone died?” 

“Say your cat died,” Jared says. 

Connor frowns. “We don’t have a cat.” 

“Does you dad know that?” 

“Hmm, touche,” Connor says. “You good with a dead cat? Oh, that sounded fucked up. But you know what I mean.” 

Evan nods, “I’ll be right back.” 

Connor bounces his leg up and down anxiously the moment the door is closed. “I can’t believe he offered to go in there.” 

“He cares a lot about Zoe,” Jared says pointedly.

“Alright, fine, I’ll apologize. I just, they’re all so fucking _cozy_ without me. Blood relation is pretty much the only thing I have going for me anymore.” 

“Connor— ” Jared starts.

“I really don’t want a big inspirational speech right now about how great I am or how much my family loves me or something. It’s been a rough evening, just let me wallow. I’ll apologize to Evan later.” 

“Alright,” Jared says evenly, and then drums his hands on the wheel. “Hey, what are you doing this weekend?” 

“Nothing,” Connor says slowly. “Why?” 

Connor can see the bouncy shrug of Jared’s shoulders, “We should do something.” 

“I don’t really wanna be your third wheel, sorry.” 

“No, I mean like, me and you should do something. Like, I don’t know, go to a movie or get dinner or...I don’t know, we could go bowling or something.” 

“...It kinda sounds like you’re asking me out,” Connor jokes. 

“Don’t be a douche,” Jared says. “We used to hang out all the time.” 

“Well yeah, but— ” 

“ —But you’re only interested in being friends if I’m putting out, I get it,” Jared says sarcastically, but it’s painfully clear that he sort of believes it too. 

“Dude c’mon,” Connor protests. “It’s weird. Don’t you think it’s weird?” 

“Maybe, but it’s never going to be unweird unless we, like, actually try,” Jared says. 

Connor chews at his lip and tries to resist the urge to whine that that sounds hard and not very fun, when he catches sight of Evan and Zoe crossing towards them. Zoe’s taken her gown off and has it slung over her arm, hat in hand. She climbs into the passenger seat so Evan crosses around the car and takes the middle row beside Connor. 

He must have gone super method cause there’s more tear tracks on Evan’s face, which he hastily wipes away as soon as he’s clicked in his seatbelt.

Zoe is stonily quiet, staring out the window. 

“Too bad about your fake cat then,” Jared says as they pull out of the parking lot, trying to break the tension. 

“I couldn’t kill her,” Evan says. “I know she’s not real, but I felt too bad. She’s at the emergency vet clinic, it looks pretty bad but she’s going to pull through.” 

“Evan, I love you,” Jared says immediately, like it sprung immediately to mind and tumbled straight out of his mouth with no filter. Not that Jared usually has that much filter to begin with. 

“Oh, I love you too?” Evan says, making it more of a question than a statement, in true Evan fashion. 

Connor’s sitting directly behind Zoe so he can’t see her face, and he’s torn between wanting to know every single detail of what happened and never wanting to talk about tonight ever again. Luckily for him, Zoe makes the choice for him, staying completely silent the entire drive back to their place. Connor follows Zoe inside while Evan and Jared say goodnight and the whole house is seemingly empty and silent. 

Connor flicks on the kitchen lights, catching sight of a hastily scribbled _heading to bed early Congrats Zoe we love you xoxoxox_ , in Heidi’s writing on the whiteboard on the freezer door. 

Zoe sighs, setting her robe and motorboard on the kitchen island. Connor hears the front door open and Evan gives him a little wave, hesitating a second with his eyes on Zoe before going downstairs to his room. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Zoe says very suddenly and calmly, running her hands over the fabric of the gown, smoothing it into a square. 

“I didn’t ask,” Connor points out. 

“You think loud,” Zoe says crossing to the fridge and pouring herself a glass of the weird herbal water their mom’s been super into lately. 

Connor stares at the back of her head. He's not exactly sure what he expected, Zoe’s never been the type to really tell him about her feelings. But even still they’ve always been allies in the fight against their dad. Zoe takes a long drink of her weird herbal water, eyeing him suspiciously over the rim of the glass. “What?” she says.

“I thought I thought loudly,” Connor says pettily.

Zoe raises an eyebrow, sipping her water. 

“Look, I'm not saying you have to,” Connor says, “But if anyone's going to understand dad specific brand of complete douchebaggery it's going to be me.” 

“I know,” Zoe says. 

“Then why did you call Evan?” Connor asks before he can think about it too long and talk himself out of it. 

“Oh my god Connor, it’s not a popularity contest, he was just higher up on my recent because, you know, he actually texts and calls me.” 

“Wow thanks,” Connor says flatly. 

“You’re the one who asked,” Zoe says, setting her glass in the sink and turning towards the stairs. 

“Should I be worried?” Connor says.

Zoe gives him a look, “About what?”

“About you.”

Zoe rolls her eyes, stepping onto the stairs. “Good night Connor.” 

Connor watches her go, frowning. But he figures Zoe has always been kind of a private person and her refusal to talk about it shouldn’t be that much of red flag. 

Still something about it sticks out painfully in his mind, and all the next day he finds his mind wandering to what exactly happened between her and their dad at the restaurant. He’s so distracted during his shift at work that his co-worker Alana has to stop him from accidentally shelving their reserved books twice. 

“Are you okay?” She asks, putting a gentle hand on his arm the second time she has to stop him from putting some very expensive rare books in with the regular collection. 

“Yeah, yeah sorry,” Connor says, giving his head a shake. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” 

“You know if you wanna talk about it I’m actually a certified peer counsellor,” Alana says cheerfully turning back to the book she was entering into their computer system, “I took an intensive over Spring Break and I’m hoping to do more actually counselling in the fall.” 

“I think I’m good, but thanks,” Connor says, leaning over to gather his hair up into a messy bun and then gathering the pile of books he’s actually meant to be shelving. It’s a bit unusual for him to be working with anyone at all, the bookstore usually a one-employee operation, but they’d just acquired a huge collection from some retired academic so he’s on with Alana. Who is actually Connor’s favourite co-worker, despite the fact that sometimes talking to her is like talking to someone from another planet. But Alana is smart and funny and has a seemingly never-ending stream of personal anecdotes about almost anything, which Connor quite enjoys because it means all he needs to really contribute conversationally is the occasional headnod or noise of surprise. 

But still, as much as he likes Alana she’s not exactly the kind of person Connor would be spilling his personal life to, not that he really has anyone he spills his personal life to. Other than his therapist, but it’s not exactly the same. As much as he was still pretty defensive about what Jared had said about Connor not sharing personal things with him, and like at the end of the day Connor still doesn’t owe anything to anyone, he can kind of see how it’s come back to bite him on the ass. 

Anyways, perhaps the best part about having another person on with him is it means Connor gets to leave half an hour early and not have to do closing. Which is especially nice given that it’s Friday and that usually means whoever is closing gets treated to the club directly above them testing the sound system. Clubs aren’t really Connor’s thing on principle but he never really had any beef with them until he had to be treated to the dull throb of bass through the floor every Thursday through Sunday when it was his turn to close. At the very least it’s Friday, which means they close early and there’s no chance of Connor having to shove his way through the line of particularly keen club-goers like he sometimes has to do on Thursdays. 

Evan has a later shift so Heidi ends up giving him a ride home, and he mostly zones out while she complains about some birthday cake related office drama that happened at her firm. 

“Oh hey, don’t let me forget,” Heidi says interjecting in the middle of her story, “Your mom and I are going out to that Shakespeare thing in the arboretum so I’ll give you some money so you and Zoe can order dinner. Unless you wanna tag along with us, you can give us all your English major insights,” she says, flicking her turn signal as she pulls into their neighbourhood. 

“Nah, I don’t wanna crash your date,” Connor says, besides he likes Shakespeare fine, but it’s not really his thing (which he at least partially blamed on that contingent of English majors that his ex-boyfriend Thomas was part of whose idea of interesting queer readings of Shakespeare started and ended with ‘I think Horatio and Hamlet are fucking’). 

“Of course,” Heidi says and pulls into their driveway so Connor can extract himself from her compact car, managing not to bang his head which was usually about a 50/50 endeavor. Heidi digs out her wallet and hands him two twenties through the window which he tucks into his back pocket. 

His mom is already coming out the front door with two folding chairs tucked under her arm and she stops to give him a kiss on the cheek as Connor heads inside. “We’re going to grab drinks with some of the girls from work after the show so don’t worry if you don’t see us until late,” she says and then gives him a little pat on the top of his bun, “This looks cute!” 

Connor gives a halfhearted little chuckle. “Thanks. Have fun at your show.” 

“We will!” his mom calls over her shoulder as Heidi comes over to help her with the chairs. 

Connor sets himself up in the living room, putting on some house flipping show on HGTV and pulling his laptop onto his stomach to try and figure out what he’s in the mood for. He’s pretty sure Evan had told him he was working till close, so he figures he doesn’t need to account for him dinner wise. 

“Hey Zoe!?” Connor calls, reaching over to turn the volume on the tv down, “Zoe!?” he calls again when he gets no response, waiting for a long moment before heaving himself off the couch and heading upstairs. 

“Zo?” He calls again most of the way up the stairs, giving a rapid double knock on her door, before swinging it open. He frowns at her empty room, before pulling her door shut again before pulling his phone out of his back pocket and shooting her a text as he heads back downstairs. _hey you gonna be home for dinner?_

He’s just settled back down on the couch when his phone buzzes with her reply, _Probably not go ahead without me._

Alright, so his choice it is. Connor pulls up the website for the local Thai place that he likes and orders himself a truly obscene amount of shrimp Pad Thai with lemongrass rice. He pays with one of the twenties Heidi left him but realizes when he goes for his wallet to see if he has any small bills that it’s not in his left back pocket like always. 

Connor sets the takeout bag on the kitchen island and retraces his steps to the living room checking that he didn’t set it on the couch or something. His keys are on their hook in the entryway but he’s coming to the sinking realization that he almost certainly left his wallet at the bookstore when he’d gone to pay for one of the books he’d had on hold. He must have left it behind the counter instead of putting it back in his pocket. 

“Fuck,” he says under his breath, padding back to the kitchen. He tries to breathe through the nagging little voice of paranoia that always emerges when any of his important personal items are out of his control. Evan should be home in a few hours if Zoe doesn’t get back first from wherever the hell she’s disappeared to and one of them can drive him over to the bookstore. It doesn’t exactly settle the urge that buzzes just under his skin to _go, go right now_ , but he manages to at least sit himself back down in the living room with a big plate of food and the soothing sounds of some manufactured home renovation drama. And he does feel a bit better after he’s eaten, content to stretch out on the couch, his feet just dangling over the edge. 

Without meaning to he drifts off into a Thai food induced sleep, bobbing to the surface of consciousness every once in a while to the sounds of the tv, before slipping back under. It’s not until the front door opens and closes with a hard slam that Connor jerks back awake, wiping some drool off his chin as he sits up. There’s the sounds of laughing and shuffling and Connor looks over his shoulder just time to catch Evan pressing Jared up against the wall of the entry, Jared’s hands on his ass as they make out. Connor looks away and clears his throat _very_ loudly as he sits up. 

“Oh hey Connor,” Evan says, and at least he has the good sense to sound sheepish. 

“Hey,” Connor says, collecting his dishes and the empty containers together, pointedly not looking at them, “I forgot my wallet at work, can you drive me to go grab it?” 

“Oh yeah totally,” Evan says, sounding weirdly relieved and practically leaping out of the was as Connor stands with his pile of stuff to take to the kitchen. Jared gives him a little half eye roll like ‘sorry couldn’t help it’ and Connor almost turns on his heel and goes around the other way to the kitchen. Almost. But that would really be too dramatic. Probably.

He sets the dishes in the sink alongside the plastic containers that need to be rinsed before they go into the recycling. “Do you wanna go now?” Evan asks from the hall with a hopeful little note in his voice like he’d really like to squeeze in a quick little handy before he has to deal with this. Or maybe that’s just Connor projecting 

God, he needs to get laid. 

“Yeah,” Connor says flatly, feeling a smug little hit of satisfaction at breaking up whatever the hell was going on, followed by a much bigger hit of guilt. Evan’s literally doing him a favour and it’s not like he knows about any of this nonsense anyways. 

“Thanks for driving me,” Connor adds belatedly as he pulls on a pair of shoes and Evan fucking _beams_ at him. 

“Of course!” he says, and then turns to Jared, “Hey Jare, can you just shove this in my room? We should only be like half an hour probably if you’re fine to just chill? Or, I mean, you can come but you’ll have to sit in the back cause Connor’s taller.” 

“You don’t have to rub it in,” Jared jokes, taking Evan’s backpack from him. “But yeah sure I’ll just chill.” 

“Awesome,” Evan says, “You good to go?” 

“Yup,” Connor says, standing and pulling his bun tighter from where it had slipped during his unplanned nap. 

Connor loads up his Summer Jams playlist as soon as they’re out of the driveway and Evan takes the hint that he’s not much up for small talk. Now that they’re en route the awful little voice of worst case scenario in his brain very interested in the idea that Connor may have not left his wallet at work to begin with, that maybe he’d been mistaken and actually he’d dropped it on the sidewalk or it had somehow ended up in Heidi’s car which would probably be broken into while they were at the play and— 

“Connor?” Evan says hesitantly, “Are you okay, you look a little….queasy? Do you want your window down?” 

“No, I’m fine,” Connor says, “Sorry I just hate when I don’t know where my shit is.” 

“Yeah totally,” Evan says sympathetically, “I get that. I mean I don’t like, necessarily get _that_. But uh, the anxiety shit. I get that. And people just wanna be like ‘oh don’t worry about it it’ll be fine’ and I’m like, okay cool thanks that’s not how my brain works.” 

“Yeah,” Connor says slowly. It’s not like Evan’s mental health stuff had been any sort of secret but he’d never talked about it that frankly in front of Connor. 

It’s late enough that it’s not super busy, but the presence of a nightclub literally occupying the space above the bookstore means that this block specifically is fairly busy. “Can I just drop you and I’ll circle?” Evan asks after he narrowly avoids hitting a pedestrian who lunged out of the line for the club and into the street. 

“Yeah totally,” Connor says, hand already on the door as Evan pulls further up the block to let him out. Normally he hates having to navigate the nightclub line, but his purposeful power walk and resting bitch face must be enough that people are practically leaping out of his way as Connor shoves past the section of the line that directly blocks the door to the bookstore, pulling his keys out of his pocket. 

He locks the door behind him and flicks a set of lights for the front on. The store is legitimately kind of creepy in the dark, so after a second thought he throws up another set of lights. He can practically feel all the relief endorphins flooding his bloodstream as he catches sight of his wallet tucked behind the little computer terminal at the counter. He does a quick check to make sure all his IDs and cash are still there, though the only person who would really have been able to see it, let alone go through it would be Alana, who seems much more like the kind of person who would be returning wallets cash and all than taking anything from them. 

When he’s one hundred percent sure nothing is missing he double checks that he has his phone and starts towards the front. He’s just about to hit the lights when someone outside knocks loudly on the glass of the front window and Connor practically jumps out of his skin. 

He turns sharply, absolutely ready to throw his most lethal glare at whatever drunken club going asshole thought it would be funny to fuck with him, but his glare melts into surprise when he turns and sees Jackson from down the street waving at him cheerfully. 

“ _Connor!_ ” Jackson calls muffled through the glass and waves again. 

Still a little thrown off, Connor gives a hesitant little wave back and Jackson beams at him. He hits the lights and moves over to the front door, unlocking it carefully. Jackson takes a step back and gives him another huge cheesy grin as Connor opens the door and then carefully locks it behind him. 

“Connor!” Jackson says at a volume that is much louder than need be given that they are standing about two feet from each other, and Connor realizes belatedly that Jackson has definitely had a few drinks. Which makes sense, given that he’s in line for a nightclub. “I like your hair, man!” Jackson says, clapping him on the arm. “It’s very….” he makes a vague hand gesture. 

“Good,” he finally settles on, “it’s very good.” 

“Thanks,” Connor says, bemused but still a little bit flustered by the whole situation. 

“Guys!” Jackson says turning towards a small pack of dudes, “Guys, Connor is here! _Connor_ from my street!” 

Two of the guys exchange a look that Connor can’t even begin to comprehend before Jackson is tugging on his arm. “Connor, _dude_ , you have to come out with us! It’s Pride Night, baby!”

Connor opens his mouth to politely decline but his brain gets caught somewhere between ‘Pride Night’ and ‘baby.’ “I uh,” Connor manages finally with Jackson looking at him expectantly with huge puppy dog eyes, “Sorry, I— my step-brother is literally circling the block to come pick me up.” 

“Oh _nooooooo_ ,” Jackson moans with all the emotional honesty of someone a few shots deep, “That’s such a bummer. We have to go out some time!” 

Connor feels himself flush even as he huffs a little laugh, “Yeah, sure, some other time.” 

“Promise?” Jackson asks. 

“Sure.” 

“Pinky promise?” 

Jackson holds out his pinky determinedly until Connor very gently reaches out and hooks his to his finger. It’s a weird spidersilk moment, stretching on for far longer than it seems like it possibly could, the thrumming bass from the club above them mixed in with the crowd outside and the stop and start of vehicles on the street, before stretching to its limit and breaking gently like taffy. 

“Good night Connor,” Jackson says very softly like it’s their secret, and Connor’s heart tries its best to match the tempo of the muffled dubstep _thump thump thumping_ above them. 

“Good night,” Connor says, hoping his voice doesn’t betray his rabbit heart. 

He forces himself to walk to the edge of the curb before he looks back, Jackson still looking off in his direction while two of the dudes he was in line with start making out against the vestibule of the bookstore. Jackson gives a big sweeping wave before being forced forward by the ebb of the crowd into the club. 

“All good?” Evan asks through the rolled down window and Connor nods, holding up his recovered wallet. 

He doesn’t bother putting on another playlist, too distracted by trying to parse out this new information about Jackson from down the street. Who, it seems now, very very likely might be into dudes. Which on the one hand is kind of awesome news, but on the other hand is the kind of thing that could easily lead to him getting his hopes way up. Especially when, for all their nice-weird interactions, Connor does barely know this guy. And more dangerously, he barely knows Connor. 

“Hey, you’ve had a boyfriend right?” Evan asks very suddenly snapping Connor out of his own thoughts. 

“Yeah, for a couple of months,” Connor says, trying to ignore the weird lingering feeling that he was somehow thinking abou Jackson so loudly Evan could tell. Like when you get a targeted ad for something you’d been thinking about the day before. 

“So, uh, okay, this is a bit like...it’s a bit weird. Or not, okay, not weird but maybe just a bit uhhhh...private?” Evan says in a big whoosh, “And like you _do not_ have to like answer or tell me anything you’re uncomfortable with but just, uh, I don’t really have anyone else I can ask.” 

Oh dear lord. As if this comedy of fucking errors couldn’t get any worse. “Alright,” Connor says hesitantly, about ninety percent certain about where this is going. 

“Okay, so like, you’ve had sex right?” Evan says, his voice squeaking sharply on ‘sex.’

“Yeah,” Connor says, and then Evan doesn’t say anything for like three minutes, quietly huffing and exhaling like he’s trying to work himself up to something he can’t quite force himself to say. 

“Have you considered maybe just googling it?” Connor asks finally, trying hard not to sound like an asshole, but seriously what is he a walking, talking copy of The Joys of Gay Sex? 

“I tried,” Evan says pitifully, “Everything is for straight people, or just not helpful like which liquid lipsticks will last through a blow job.” 

“Alright, okay, hit me then,” Connor says. “I don’t promise any, like, actual expertise though.” 

Evan takes a long deep breathe and then finally manages, “How do you like, figure out if you’re sexually compatible?” 

“You walked into the house making out, Evan, I think you’re fine.” 

“No, I mean like — sorry I put that badly — I mean more like, for sex. Like sex-sex, how do you uh, like figure out positions and stuff? Like what if we’re not compatible.” 

It’s like Connor’s fucking third eye opens or something, staring off into nothingness as he puts together _exactly_ what Evan is asking. 

And the fact that he knows the answer. 

And the fact that he absolutely cannot just say _‘well your boyfriend’s a bottom so take it from there.’_

“Um,” Connor manages out finally, “I think you just kind of have to talk to Jared about it.” 

“I know,” Evan says, defeatedly, “I just get like, what if we’re not like, sexually compatible you know? Everything else has been so good so far and I just really don’t wanna fuck it up, uh, pun not intended.” 

Connor snorts, and then chews on the inside of his mouth considering. As much as he doesn’t love the idea of being Evan’s sex tutor, he is a little bit that flattered that he’d asked him in the first place. “Look,” Connor says, deciding to put his cards on the table, “So I was dating Thomas for a few months and we were uh, like, _compatible_ in the sort of traditional way, but I was also hooking up with this guy on and off during the year. A kind of friends with benefits thing right? And we uh, we weren’t as sexually compatible, but we still figured out a lot of stuff and had fun so like. I guess maybe don’t worry too much about it? Jared’s clearly crazy about you, I think it will be fine.” 

Evan perks up a little bit at that, oh irony of ironies. “Thanks Connor, that’s actually...really helpful.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Connor says, “Also, like please do not think I know anything about relationships ever, this was very much a one off very lucky coincidence.” 

“Noted,” Evan says pulling into their driveway and putting the car in park. 

Heidi’s car is in the driveway and they walk into the house to his mom, Evan’s mom, and Jared all sitting at the kitchen island drinking white wine. Connor declines the invitation to join, but does stick around long enough to catch his mom raving about the actor playing Juliet. 

“Are you sure I can’t get you something, sunshine?” his mom asks, “I can make you a mocktail.” 

“Nah,” Connor says, digging around in the freezer for an ice cream bar.

“Oh hey, is Zoe back yet?” Connor asks, leaning up against the fridge and taking in the scene, complete with Evan trying to take sneaky sips from Jared’s glass when he thinks Jared isn’t looking. 

Heidi and his mom both look at him. “She isn’t home?” Heidi asks. 

Connor shakes his head, “She wasn’t when Evan and I left to get my wallet, unless she came home while we were gone?” 

Heidi turns to Jared who shakes his head. “I didn’t see her.” 

Connor’s mom pulls out her phone, standing up from her stool and putting it to her ear. It’s not like any of them have formal curfew, but it does seem a bit odd that Zoe hadn’t told any of them where she was going. Plus, she wouldn’t have had a car since Evan had driven the crossover to work. 

“She’s not picking up,” Connor’s mom says, poking her tongue against the side of her cheek. 

“I’m sure she’s— ” Heidi starts and is cut off at the sound of the front door swinging open. All of them turning to look at Zoe who takes a startled little step back. 

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that,” Zoe says, kicking her shoes off under the little bench in the entryway. 

“Zoe please answer your phone when I call you,” his mom says and Connor catches a quick flash of annoyance from Zoe before she schools her face into a more neutral expression. 

“I was literally coming up the driveway I figured it could wait, sorry,” Zoe says. 

“Where were you?” 

“God, just out with people, does it matter? I didn’t realize I was on fucking parole,” Zoe snaps, thudding up the stairs to her room, the door closing heavily behind her. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Heidi says after a long moment, patting his mom’s hand and Evan catches Connor’s eye and gives him a little confused glance. Which means whatever the hell is going on with Zoe, Evan’s also in the dark, despite their reported closeness. 

Connor would really like to just go be alone in his room, but instead he tells his mom that he’s changed his mind and would actually like a mocktail after all, which she happily sets off making. Heidi catches his eye and gives him a little grateful smile as he sits on the bar stool beside her. 

He’s half expecting shit to still be weird and tense the next morning when he comes downstairs for breakfast, but Zoe and his mom are chatting animatedly over plates of eggs and turkey bacon. 

“Morning sunshine,” his mom says. “You want some breakfast?” 

Connor nods, sliding onto a stool and gratefully accepting a plate from her. 

“Evan! Jared! If you want breakfast you better hurry!” She calls down the basement stairs before wandering off into the living room with her coffee as Evan and Jared come thudding up the stairs, play fighting and shoving at each other. 

“What, you aren’t gonna get me breakfast?” Jared asks as Evan sits down with a plate for himself. 

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize your legs had stopped working,” Evan says. “I am your _boooyfriend_ , don’t be mean to me,” Jared whines, but stands with a huff to get food. 

“Ugh, I’m out,” Zoe says jokingly, setting her dishes in the sink.

“Killjoy,” Jared says, “We’re adorable.” 

“I mean that’s one way of putting it,” Connor says half-under his breath and Evan lets out a peal of surprised laughter. Zoe snorts and disappears upstairs to her room, texting as she makes her way up the stairs.

“Hey,” Evan says softly a few minutes later when Jared had disappeared back downstairs to grab his phone, “Thanks again for the advice, but, uh, turns out we’re um, very compatible.” 

“Oh,” Connor says, “Oh good.” Evan pats him on the shoulder once, before putting his dishes away and heading down the basement stairs. Leaving Connor alone to grapple with the fact that Evan Hansen is, apparently, a top. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the conceit of a club being right above a bookstore probably sounds really contrived but this is indeed very much a thing in the city I am basing this in.


	3. Early July.

**Early July.**

There’s a package sitting in the middle of the kitchen island when Connor comes downstairs to make some lunch, Evan sitting at the island typing away on his laptop. 

“Hey,” Evan says barely looking up, and Connor nods and makes a little grunt of acknowledgement, pulling the fridge open to start assembling everything he needs for a truly obnoxiously bougie sandwich. 

“Who’s the package for?” Connor asks, using his foot to close the fridge and Evan looks over his laptop. 

“Oh...that is not someone who lives here,” Evan says frowning as he reads the name, “Jackson Wayne?” 

Connor perks up at the name. “Oh, I know which house that is, I can go drop that off later.” Connor doesn’t tend to be the kind of person who believes in fate, which is maybe a bit ironic considering his life as of late, but there does seem to be something drawing Connor towards this guy. Or maybe he just really wants there to be something drawing them together. 

Either way, Connor will definitely take the excuse to see Jackson, especially after...whatever it was between them the other night. He tries not to scarf his sandwich and then heads upstairs to change out of his gross old dance studio t-shirt into something a little more presentable. He debates whether he should bring down his cherry red docs instead of his lighter black canvas boots he usually wears in the summer, but figures that’s probably what tips the scale into trying too hard. 

Evan gives him a quiet once over when he comes back downstairs to grab the package but doesn’t say anything about Connor’s sudden wardrobe change. He debates for a minute if he should go by later in the day, but since he doesn’t know if Jackson has a job, let alone his schedule, it doesn’t seem any better to wait. 

Even though they live in a nice neighbourhood where all the houses are fairly large, Connor’s a bit surprised to realize that Jackson’s house, 467, is by far the largest house on their street. A light blue vaguely Mediterranean-looking two story with a semi circular driveway stretching the length of the house. The front door is tucked away to one side, and Connor double checks the address for the fifth or sixth time before he knocks on the door. 

There’s a long pause before some guy about his age, who’s neither Jackson nor the brother Connor had met before, opens the door. “Hey, can I help you?” 

“Hi,” Connor says, all ready for the spiel he’d rehearsed in his head, “A package for Jackson got delivered to our house, I’m Connor I— ” and Connor was going to say ‘I live at 497,’ but before he can finish the guy cuts him off. 

“You’re Connor?” He says, voice rising excitedly, “Shit! Hold on, Jackie’s not here but he should be back literally _any_ minute. Come in, come in.” He ushers Connor into the front entryway of the house. “I’m Ivan by the way, I’m Jackson’s brother,” The guys says, offering a hand. 

“I’m Connor,” Connor says, even though it seems pretty useless at this point. 

“Yeah I _know_ ,” Ivan says, with a tone of voice Connor doesn’t quite recognize. “You can just put that here,” Ivan says, gesturing towards a little hall table. “Just wait here a sec, I’m gonna double check he’s not home yet.” 

He doesn’t wait for Connor’s answer, thumping up the staircase with a “ _Hey Jackie_!?” And leaving Connor lingering awkwardly alone in the front hall. 

Connor’s worried when he hears the front door open that he’ll be face to face with yet another of the seemingly never ending supply of dark-haired Wayne brothers, so it’s a huge relief when Connor turns and is face to face with Jackson, a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a hockey stick in his hand. 

“Connor!?” Jackson says delightedly. “Uh, hi?” 

“Hey, you uh, package?” Connor says, gesturing with the box he’s still holding. “They delivered it to our house. Your brother let me in and told me I should wait.” 

“Oh sure, easy to mix up 467 and 497,” Jackson says with a smile, heaving his bag onto the floor with a thud. 

“ _Jackie is that you!?_ ” Ivan calls from somewhere upstairs and Jackson lets out a loud groan. 

“Oh god, I take it you met Ivan,” Jackson says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Yeah he uh, he seems nice,” Connor says, still holding onto the box like it’s a shield. 

Jackson snorts, and Ivan reappears at the top of the stairs, “Dude, Connor’s here!” Ivan announces with a flourish of his arms toward Connor. 

“Yeah bro, I saw,” Jackson says sarcastically, and then turning back to Connor, “Sorry for my brother’s _abysmal_ hospitality, do you want a drink or something?” 

“Oh, I don’t wanna intrude or anything,” Connor says slowly. 

“Dude, not at all, here let me just get rid of all my shit,” Jackson says. “Gimme five seconds.” He grabs his duffle bag off the floor again and disappears into a little side hall, leaving Connor standing awkwardly still holding the package, Jackson’s brother still hanging over the banister of the stairs. 

“So,” Ivan says, leaning farther than is probably safe with a kind of practiced nonchalance that Connor can’t help but associate with Jared, “You’re Connor.” 

Connor wrinkles his nose, unsure what exactly that’s supposed to mean, and it’s nice when Jackson reappears so quickly he doesn’t have to come up with any sort of response. 

“Hey sorry,” Jackson says, reaching his arms out for the package. “Let me take that for you. Do you want a drink?” 

“Thirsty?” Ivan says sweetly and Jackson turns to glare. “Hey Ivan, why don’t you go take a shower, it looks like it’s been a while.” 

“Ouch,” Ivan deadpans but disappears upstairs all the same. 

“Sorry about him,” Jackson says apologetically, tucking the package under his arm and leading Connor down a hall into a huge chef’s kitchen that would probably move his poor pinterest-loving mother to tears. Jackson sets the box down on the giant butcher’s block island and pats the top of a stool. “Sit, I’ll grab you a drink.” 

Connor sits even though he’s not entirely sure what exactly he’s doing here. Jackson just has this powerful charmingly friendly aura, acting like he and Connor are longtime friends instead of two dudes who have basically only met a handful of times. 

Jackson passes him a glass of something clear and pinkish. “It’s an herbal infusion,” Jackson clarifies. “My dad is super into them right now. It’s good, it just tastes kinda like watered down juice.” 

“Is it like a...detox thing?” Connor asks cautiously. 

“Oh god no,” Jackson says, leaning on the butcher block, the soft muscles of his arms flexing as he crosses his arms to lean on them. “We’re not really into that kind of thing.” 

“Me neither,” Connor says. 

“So,” Jackson says, straightening up, “I’m actually really glad you came over I’ve been actually uh, wanting to talk to you? I tried to look you up on facebook but uh, I couldn’t find you, and I didn’t know how to get ahold of you other than just like, walking Bernadette by your house a bunch. Which sounds a bit stalker-ish now that I’m saying it out loud. I promise I’m not a stalker.” 

“That’s exactly what a stalker would say,” Connor jokes around the rim of his glass. 

“Fair,” Jackson says, as there’s the telltale jangle of a dog collar and Bernadette pads into the room, her tail wagging as she sees Connor and comes over to sniff at his legs. 

“Bernie!” Jackson scolds gently. “Leave Connor alone.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Connor says, reaching down to give her a scratch behind the ears and she lays her black fluffy head on his knee, looking up at him with big brown eyes. 

“She’s such a little suck. You’d think she gets no attention from any of us,” Jackson says with an eye roll. 

“So, you were, uh, you were saying?” Connor prompts. 

“Huh?” 

“You said you uh, you wanted to see me?” Connor says, trying to keep his voice painfully neutral. 

“Right, duh, sorry,” Jackson says, and then clears his throat, “I uh, I just wanted to say I’m really sorry for how obnoxious I was the other night.” 

Connor frowns. “The other night?” 

“At the bookstore? I was like already pretty smashed and I know that, like, this dude you barely know pounding on the window of your workplace is probably the last thing you wanted to deal with.” 

“Oh.” Connor says, grappling with the right words to put together that aren’t ‘anytime I see you is a good time and I’d basically rather see drunk you than sober anyone else.’

He finally settles on, “It didn’t bother me, it just surprised me. But it was a nice surprise.” 

“Really!?” Jackson says beaming, “That’s so great. But uh, I well I was _going_ to ask you as sort of an apology, but just in general if you wanted to, we’re doing a fourth of July thing on the weekend? I promise I will be less drunk and less obnoxious. And there will be fireworks. And a fine selection of barbecue foods for both vegetarians and meat eaters.” 

He leans over the island, giving a little shoulder shimmy and waggling his eyebrows like he really needs to sell Connor on this party. Which is so flattering Connor’s brain just sort of stops being helpful for a long second. 

“I don’t drink,” Connor’s mind offers up finally, like it’s trying to throw up one last roadblock to prove that this nice sweet (possibly gay?) guy can’t possibly _actually_ want him to come to this party. That he’s just asking to be nice and will jump at the slightest chance to rescind his invitation. 

But instead of giving a fake apologetic smile and shrugging and going ‘Oh well then, maybe next time?’ Jackson just looks nervous, “Oh, I mean, it’s not like a drinking mandatory thing, but people will probably be drinking if that’s, uh, a trigger for you or makes you uncomfortable.” 

“Not really,” Connor says, “I just won’t be drinking.” 

“Yeah for sure,” Jackson says nodding, “Yeah, no, I mean it’s not problem or anything. And as long as it’s not a problem for you, I would really love if you’d come.” 

There’s a tone of such complete and total sincerity that makes Connor feel like a rice paper cutout of himself, like he could be swept away by a light breeze and the sincere kind pleas of Jackson Wayne. 

“Can I get back to you?” Connor finally settles on. “I just don’t know if we have, like, family stuff?” 

“Absolutely!” Jackson says, beaming again. “Let me grab your number and, I uh, hold on where’d I put it?” He pats himself down and then turns in a wide circle. “Shit, I think I left my phone in my gym bag, hold on I’ll be right back.” 

He’s off down the hall before Connor can protest that he has his phone and could just text Jackson so he’d have his number. He tries and fails not to feel like a weird decorator item sitting in a vague acquaintances’ kitchen while his dog rests her head on his leg. He takes a long sip of the weird herbal infusion, which indeed does taste like watered down juice, setting his glass down when Bernadette suddenly perks up. It’s a second later when there’s the sound of jangling keys in the lock and the side door into the kitchen opens, Bernadette bounding over as yet another dark-haired presumed Wayne brother appears in the doorway. 

“Bernie get down, yes, yes, I’m very excited to see you too!” The mystery brother says trying to balance a large brown paper grocery bag while Bernadette jumps up on him affectionately. In behind him comes another Wayne brother, but at least it’s one Connor’s actually met, Clark, who he’s mistaken for Jackson at a distance on a few horrible heartstopping occasions. Though of course it’s not Clark, who at least vaguely knows who he is, but the other brother who catches sight of him. 

“Um...hello?” he says and Connor tries his best to look as not-awkward and friendly as possible. “Um, who are you?” 

“Connor!” Clark says saving Connor’s goddamn life. “How’re you, man?” 

“Oh, I’m, I’m okay,” Connor says tripping over his words like they’re tangled around his ankles. “I uh, Jackson? He’s, he just went to get something.” 

Clark and the mystery brother exchange a truly baffling series of glances and shrugs and Connor is so thankful when Jackson comes practically sliding back into the room saving his paranoid ass from slipping into twelve levels of ‘what the fuck does _that_ mean’ 

“Hey, sorry I-” Jackson starts and then sputters off when he sees his brothers. 

“Don’t worry Jackie we’ll be on our way,” Clark says going over to ruffle Jackson’s hair, who dodges him, practically slamming into his third mystery brother. 

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us?” Mystery brother says and Jackson scowls at him for a split second, so quickly that Connor thinks he may have just seen it wrong before Jackson turns back looking much less grumpy. 

“Luke, this is Connor from down the street, Connor this is my _baby_ brother Luke,” Jackson says making a kissy face and grabbing Luke by the chin. 

“Oh fuck off, I’m two months younger than you asshole.” 

Jackson laughs, and Connor sits like a bowl of fruit at a still life drawing class in the middle of the room, watching this completely foreign bro-interaction take place. It’s like being stuck in the middle of some Disney channel sitcom, which is about as far from Connor’s family situation as you could possibly get. 

“C’mon Luke,” Clark says, flinging his arm over his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s leave Jackson and his friend alone. It was nice to see you Connor,” he adds snapping his fingers for Bernadette on his way out of the kitchen. 

“Yeah nice to meet you Connor!” Luke calls over his shoulder as he is promptly ushered out of the room. 

There’s a long brittle pause for a second before Jackson lets out a groan, leaning his elbows forward onto the island and putting his head in his hands, “For fucks sake,” he mutters under his breath before looking back up at Connor. “I am so sorry they’re like that, they’re so nosy.” 

“Oh, it’s okay,” Connor says, for a loss of anything else. 

“It’s not but you’re sweet,” Jacksons says with a smile, and Connor’s heart jumps double-dutch. “Can I?” he waves his phone at Connor, who nods and recites his number. 

Jackson shoots him a text almost immediately and Connor’s phone vibrates against his hip. 

_Hey ! It’s Jackson Wayne !!! :D_

Connor bites his lip to cut off what would definitely be an absolutely ridiculous grin at the adorable way Jackson texts and decides that he should probably go before he pushes his luck completely. 

“I’ll let you know the deal soon,” Connor says, standing and pushing in his stool. “I just need to check with my mom and stuff.” 

“Totally, totally,” Jackson says, rubbing his hands together. “And if this doesn’t work out, maybe another time?” 

Connor nods, “Yeah so, thanks for the herbal infusion, it was, uh, as advertised. I should probably head out though…” 

“Absolutely,” Jackson says, “Thanks for dropping off my stuff, I really appreciate it.” 

“Anytime,” Connor says, and then immediately starts over analyzing if that was presumptuous on the short walk from the kitchen back to the foyer. 

Jackson holds open the front door for Connor and gives him a little wave that’s almost a salute,.“See you around.” 

“Yeah, see ya,” Connor says, double tucking his hair nervously behind his ears. 

There’s a long weird pause where it seems like Jackson might say something else, but it snaps in two like a dried twig and Jackson just gives him one last smile before shutting the front door. 

Connor takes a long exhale, wishing that it wouldn’t be considered entirely inappropriate to just collapse right there on the Waynes’ front porch for a solid ten minutes or so. 

As it is Connor manages to drag himself back up the street to his own house, trying hard not to overanalyze everything that just happened. Which is hard because the whole thing had been sort of surreal on every level. 

Jared’s car is in the driveway and Connor finds himself less annoyed by that than he usually is. Which hey, maybe that’s growth or something? He and Jared haven’t really hung out despite what he’d said the night of Zoe’s graduation, but Connor does feel slightly better about the whole situation since they kind of sort of talked about it. At least being able to acknowledge that it’s been weird makes him feel like he has to pretend less that it’s not. 

Inside Evan and Jared are curled up on the couch and Connor cranes his neck into the room to see what they’re watching, hand on the wall to keep his balance as he pulls his boots off. It sort of sounds like they’re watching some sporting event, but Evan and Jared are some of the least sporty people that Connor knows. Not that Connor can really throw any stones in his own glass house of ‘I only go to the gym because my therapist makes me and I hate every second of it’. 

(Okay that’s a bit hyperbolic, Connor does actually kind of enjoy working out, especially if he can do so while listening to a podcast, he just loathes gym culture with his entire soul and purposefully only goes really early in the morning so he can work out with yuppies and old people instead of dudebros in muscle tanks) 

“Hey!” Evan says cheerfully catching sight of him. 

“What the hell are you watching?” Connor asks, trying and mostly failing to not sound super judgemental as Evan turns down the volume on what appears to be some sort of...robot cage death match?

“BattleBots,” Jared says with a sort of enthusiastic defensiveness. 

“It’s just kind of fun and silly,” Evan adds. “Feel free to join, we’re just chilling.” 

Even though Jared is sitting with his legs sprawled over Evan’s it really does look like they’re just hanging out without any plan to start getting all handsy. Jared gives Connor a little look from behind Evan’s head and mouths _‘please?’_ giving Connor a little pout to punctuate the whole thing with the level of irony that tends to garnish any interaction with Jared. 

Connor flops down in a chair, throwing his leg over the arm and pulling out his plan. He can just catch Evan’s little surprised but pleased expression out of the corner of his eye and he pulls his phone out, studying the text from Jackson again. The weirdly endearing needless space he puts between words and exclamation points, like his excitement is a whole separate entity from his words. Connor had been just planning on chilling in the living room for twenty minutes or so to make Evan happy, but there’s something about the stupid robot battle show that is bizarrely engaging and Connor finds himself watching against his own better judgement. 

“Oh holy shit,” Connor says as one of the robots flips over and actually bursts into flames. 

“Ohh nooo,” Evan says sympathetically. “I hate when they get like totally destroyed. It’s so sad.” 

“Baby are you empathizing with the robots?” Jared says, even the judgement in his voice not quite undercutting his sheer adoration. 

Evan pouts, “I just don’t like when people work really hard to build things and then they get destroyed.” 

“Evan you are _killing_ me, you’re literally the cutest person in the entire world.” 

“Literally? I’m _literally_ the cutest person in the entire world, what sort of research did you do to come to that conclusion?” 

“Oh only the finest statistical research techniques,” Jared says and Evan laughs and pats his legs affectionately. 

“The ones you learned in Research Methods?” Connor asks and Jared groans loudly. Research Methods was a self-explanatory mandatory first year course that they’d all had to suffer through fall semester. Connor and Jared had bitched endlessly about every patronizing and unnecessary reading and assignment, including one where they’d been forced to write an entire essay about whether or not wikipedia was a credible source or not. Connor, because he was a contrarian by nature, had actually spent a considerable amount of time doing research on how in many ways wikipedia was significantly more credible than print encyclopedias due to the way it was moderated and the fact that it could be updated by the minute. He’d gotten a B- on the paper and was livid for weeks. Jared, who had half-assed a ‘wikipedia is bad because the internet is scary’ essay, had gotten an A which he fully admitted he did not deserve. 

Not that that had done much to soothe Connor’s bitterness.

Connor ends up watching till the end of the episode and they’re halfway through a second one when Zoe returns home from the music day camp she works at. “What are you watching?” she asks, unimpressed by the mechanical carnage. 

“BattleBots,” Connor says flatly. “It’s dumb yet weirdly intriguing. You wanna join?” 

“I’m good,” Zoe says, disappearing down the hall, her footsteps echoing as she heads upstairs to her room. 

Connor catches Evan frowning and decides it’s time to try and confirm his suspicions, “Okay it’s not just me, right, Zoe’s acting weird,” he asks, voice pitched low. 

Evan shrugs. “I mean, I don’t know like, this doesn’t seem normal to me but you’ve known her a lot longer. But if you think she’s being weird…Do you think, I mean, do you think it was whatever happened with your dad?” 

Connor frowns, it’s definitely possible, and maybe that’s part of it, but something about the way she’s being sneaky and secretive seem less like some sort of dad induced anger and reminds Connor a lot more of how he was when he’d gone off the deep end with pills. He forcefully pushes the thought out of his mind, not wanting to dwell on that period of his life, and hating the idea of Zoe being sucked into the same sort of bullshit he couldn’t avoid. 

“Maybe,” Connor says finally. “I’m gonna try and keep an eye on her.”

“Yeah me too,” Evan says, and normally that kind of thing would rub him the wrong way, Evan trying too hard to be brotherly, but for once it’s just kind of nice that there’s someone else who cares about Zoe as much as he does and is maybe a little bit better at showing it. 

Jared heads out after the second episode for his evening shift at Best Buy, and Evan ends up on the couch with his laptop while Connor chills in the armchair, still trying to force himself through the second half of _The Goldfinch_. His mom gets home first, and she looks so openly happy at him and Evan hanging out quietly in the same room together that Connor genuinely thinks she might cry for a moment. 

Evan catches his eye and gives him the briefest little grin and the smallest most subtle shoulder shimmy possible and Connor’s not _exactly_ sure what they’re bonding over in that moment but. It’s nice. It’s really nice. And it’s not even for show when Connor offers to tag along with Evan to pick up stuff for dinner. 

“Oh hey,” Connor says, hefting a bag of groceries into the back of the car. “Do you know if we’re doing anything for the Fourth? Like family plans?” 

“Oh maybe,” Evan says, playing jenga with the bags of groceries already in the back, “My mom and I usually go to the cottage with Jared’s family, but we haven’t really talked about it so maybe not, why?” 

Connor shrugs, “Oh, I got invited to this thing but I just didn’t wanna commit if we had stuff,” he says in the most vague and uninterested way he can manage. Evan’s ear still seem to metaphorically perk up at that. 

“Oh,” Evan says, trying his best to seem casually interested, his hand flopping uselessly on his wrist as he gestures, “That sounds uh, really fun and cool.” Connor suppresses an eyeroll and gets into the car without another word.

Some time after dinner Heidi pokes her head in his room, calling “Knock, knock!” through his door, instead of just actually knocking. 

“Yeah?” Connor calls, and Heidi opens the door and sticks her head in. 

“Hey, so your mom and I were talking about the Fourth, Evan and I usually go to the Kleinman’s, they have a cottage down by the lake, and your mom is going to tag along with us. You and Zoe are more than welcome, I checked in and there’s lots of space, but you’re also welcome to stay home if you have work or plans,” Heidi says brightly, taking a step into Connor’s room and absentmindedly picking up and folding one of his hoodies, like some kind of mom-autopilot. 

“Yeah I sort of have plans,” Connor says slowly, wondering what exactly Evan might have told her. 

“Yeah no worries, sweetheart,” Heidi says, “Oh sorry that probably sounded weird, that’s Zoe’s petname isn’t it?” 

“It’s fine,” Connor says, even though it is a bit weird. 

“Okay, well I’ll get out of your hair,” Heidi says leaning over and patting him twice on the knee affectionately, “Sleep tight.” 

“Yeah, you too,” Connor says, and waits until after she closes the door and he hears her head down the hall towards her own room before he dives for his phone and texts Jackson back immediately. 

_hey looks like i can come_ ,Connor types out and then agonizes for a long few minutes if he should wait to text back to not sound so eager. Because he is, painfully, painfully eager. Especially after this afternoon. Even though all the stuff with his brothers had been a bit weird, Connor can’t get over how weirdly enthused Jackson seemed to be to have him in his company. That wasn’t something Connor was exactly used to. 

In a fit of bravery (or possibly stupidity) Connor sends the text, his heart thumping dully against his ribs, hands sweating as he shoves his phone under his tangle of sheets, like if he can’t see it it doesn’t count, like a little kid playing hide and seek. 

Thankfully for his cardiovascular health Jackson texts back in less than a minute. 

_!!!!_

_Thats so awesome !!_

Connor bites his lip, but somehow manages to smile around where his lip is pinned down, _do i need to bring anything?_ He texts back and once again Jackson’s reply is almost instantaneous.

_If you want to but no pressure_

_Were starting p late so we can do fireworks maybe come by around 8?_

_Im so excited !!!_

_sounds good_ Connor sends back, and if there was any doubt about what exactly he was

feeling for Jackson it dissolves in the snowglobe swirl of butterflies in his stomach. 

He is so _totally_ fucked. 

But he can’t really bring himself to care. 

On the Fourth Evan, Heidi, and his mom head out pretty early, so they’re already gone by the time Connor gets up. Zoe’s also elected to stay home but she has work so she’s gone, which leaves Connor alone in the house with far too many hours to get all weird and nervous about this stupid party. He’s never been a particularly skilled cook, his repertoire consisting mostly of spaghetti and cheese omelettes, so he opts instead to walk down to the little family run corner store at the edge of their neighbourhood and buys a case of San Pellegrino, which is his go-to drink for not looking like he’s being aggressively straight edge at these kinds of things. 

When he gets home he takes a stupidly long shower, breaking into the stash of Lush products he’d stress bought during exams and spends a long time scrubbing every inch of his body, like whether or not he’s properly exfoliated will dictate whether or not Jackson likes him or _like_ likes him. He wraps his damp hair in a towel and changes into sweatpants and an old t-shirt while he stands in front of his closet debating his options. Despite it being the summer Connor still tries to wear jeans as much as possible, but that’s a lot easier in the air conditioned bookstore or his own house, not such a good combo for being outside for long periods of time.

His one and only pair of shorts it is, then. Connor pulls them on and goes back and forth between tops for a solid forty five minutes before finally settling on a soft dark heather grey t-shirt under a light cotton navy button-up with a white geometric pattern on the cuffs and the pocket, the sleeves artfully rolled up in that ‘oh I just threw this old thing on’ kind of way. Once that’s settled he lets his hair out to finish air drying and spends a good hour taking off his old polish and repainting them, deciding to bust out a deep navy instead of his usual black. 

Even with his outfit sorted Connor still has a solid few hours to kill, and on top of that he probably shouldn’t show up right at 8:00 pm like some sort of over-eager loser. Though maybe he could help Jackson set up, and the fantasy of Jackson grinning at him while they put out bowls of chips and dip drifts to the front of his brain. Jackson laughing at something Connor says, Jackson putting his arm around Connor’s waist and sticking his hand in the back pocket of Connor’s jeans, Jackson introducing Connor as his boyfriend-

Connor’s brutally snapped out of his little daydream like a seatbelt snapping too tight against his chest when Zoe suddenly bursts through the front door, humming to herself for a second before she catches sight of Connor, face darkening. “I thought you were at a thing tonight?” Zoe asks like an accusation and Connor’s thrown off by her tone. 

“It’s not till later,” Connor says, trying to keep his voice level and not get his hackles raised over her tone. But seriously what the fuck? 

“Later when?” Zoe says, putting her keys on the little table in the entryway and Connor shrugs. 

“Like 8? Am I on a fucking schedule?” Connor says, annoyance creeping into his voice despite his best efforts. But seriously, what the fuck is her problem? “Why, are you throwing a kegger?” 

Zoe snorts and pulls her braid over her shoulder. “Just nice to know when I can get some peace and quiet around here,” she says breezing past him and up the stairs. 

“Yeah you know me,” Connor calls after her. “The loud-mouth party animal!” 

Zoe flips him off over her shoulder and disappears into her room. 

Any other day Connor would probably devote more than just a passing thought at how fucking _weird_ she was being, but he’s too wound up about this whole party thing, the anxious excitement that had been bubbling all day suddenly starting to thicken into actual nerves. He forces himself to try and read for an hour, abandoning _The Goldfinch_ and flicking idly through the weird coffee table books on fashion and home design his mom definitely bought purely as decorator items. He can hear Zoe blasting loud indie music through the floor and he toys with the satisfying thought of sending her a passive aggressive text before deciding it’s not worth it. 

At a loss for something to do Connor gets sucked down the wormhole of watching movie trailers on YouTube until he suddenly looks up and it’s quarter to eight. He wanders upstairs to grab his wallet and gives himself another once over in the mirror once he’s laced up his red docs. It’s not exactly the most patriotic but he is arguably wearing red, white, and blue so he figures he gets some points for that. 

“Zoe, I’m heading out now so you can start letting people in through the back door!” Connor calls on his way downstairs and Zoe calls something back that Connor can’t make out over the music and through her door. He’s purposefully trying to pace himself to finish getting ready to leave slower so he doesn’t look overly eager, but it ends up taking him a stupidly long time to find a reusable bag to put the San Pellegrino in that doesn’t look stupid, so it’s already a little after eight when he leaves the house. 

There’s already a ton of cars parked in the semi-circular driveway, which helps to settle Connor’s stomach a little bit, having spent most of the short walk overworking himself up over the idea of being the first person to arrive. There’s a sign on the front door that says COME ON IN WE’RE OUT BACK! on a big hand lettered sign that Connor finds heart stoppingly adorable. 

There’s also a helpful arrow posted when he steps into the entryway and Connor manages to make it out into the backyard without looking like too much of a helpless lost puppy. There’s a good smattering of people spread across the backyard, but Connor doesn’t see Jackson and it’s like for the first time his brain realizes that he actually only really knows one person at this party. And even if Jackson did invite him they really do _barely_ know each other.

Miraculously though, Connor’s saved from awkward lingering purgatory by Jackson’s brother Ivan, who appears out of nowhere beaming at him. “Hey Connor!” Ivan says, “Love the boots,” and gives him a wink. 

Connor looks down, even though he is well aware which boots he put on, having spent a good twenty minutes debating if they went with his outfit or not. “Here let me take that,” Ivan says, grabbing the bag with the drinks. “We have a cooler set up over here.” 

Ivan winds Connor through the backyard over towards where the grill is set up, Luke standing in front of it, and giving Connor a little wave with the pair of tongs he’s holding. 

“So we’re doing all the vegan and vegetarian stuff on the grill first,” Ivan explains, “And then we’ll do like chicken and beef and then pork last. Jackson said he thought you might be Jewish, so it’ll be totally kosher. Or like, I don’t know if it’s kosher-kosher but it won’t be uh, cross-contaminated or whatever.” 

“Oh I’m not Jewish,” Connor says, “But that’s really thoughtful. I mean, not that you’re doing it just for me, but that’s still really nice.” 

Ivan smiles, and turns, his eyes alert over Connor’s shoulder, “Hey babe!” he says with a grin, and Connor’s a bit more surprised than he has any right to be when a sandy haired dude comes over and hands Ivan a seran-wrapped glass casserole dish of what looks like some kind of nacho dip. 

“Connor, this is my boyfriend Drew, babe this is Jackie’s friend _Connor_ ,” Ivan says, using the casserole dish to gesture between them as Drew sticks out his hand for Connor to shake. 

“Nice to meet you,” Drew says pleasantly. “I hope Ivan’s been playing nice.” 

“You know I always play nice,” Ivan says, kissing Drew on the cheek and disappearing off to a table of food with the glass dish. Drew rolls his eyes fondly and then follows after his boyfriend, leaving Connor lingering awkwardly by the cooler alone. 

He retrieves one of the cans of San Pellegrino he bought so he at least has something to do with his hands, folding the little tin foil covering into a sharp little triangle and shoving it in the pocket of his shorts. He lingers near the cooler for a second longer before deciding to wander the backyard a bit more so it’s not painfully obvious he’s an awkward loner. For such a large house the property isn’t the biggest, especially since there’s a major addition on one side and a big covered deck with a hot tub, but there’s still some pretty landscaping for him to wander around while he desperately tries to talk himself out of just leaving and going home. 

“Hey! Connor hey!” Jackson calls, and Connor has never been more relieved in his life as Jackson hops off the back deck and makes his way over to him. He has his arms sort of spread and Connor panics for a hot second because he’s really not sure what the hell he’ll do if Jackson hugs him, but when he gets in arms reach he just reaches out and touches Connor fondly on the upper arm. Which in itself is enough for Connor’s brain to short circuit for a second. 

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Jackson says and it’s the kind of thing that could sound totally corny but somehow he makes it so absolutely sincere. 

“Ha, yeah, here I am,” Connor’s absolutely useless brain comes up with but Jackson just laughs and gently leads him by the elbow back to the centre of the party. It’s not quite the fantasy his brain had cooked up earlier, especially since Jackson has not magically become his boyfriend in the last twenty minutes, but it’s really nice to have Jackson hovering beside him, enthusiastically introducing him to people. 

He’s more formally introduced to the two tall dudes who’d been making out in the line for the club the other night, the two of them trying to impossibly fit onto one lawn chair. Connor immediately forgets one of their names (Daniel? Something with a D), but the other guy, Jason, shakes his hand enthusiastically and reiterates that they absolutely need to go clubbing sometime. There’s a whole whirlwind of Jackson’s hockey team buddies, the most baffling of which is a guy named Avery, and his girlfriend, also called Avery. 

Somehow though, even though Connor normally hates this kind of meet and greet and small talk, the whole thing is actually weirdly enjoyable, with Jackson leaning in close to give commentary just on the charming edge of snarky as soon as they’re out of earshot. Connor finds himself, unwillingly, reminded of the way Jared had saddled up to him that first night at college, and forcefully pushes the thought of out his mind as Jackson leads in close to tell him about boy Avery’s aggressive vaping habits. 

At one point Jackson has to duck inside to help his older brother Clark with something, so Connor swings by the food table and grabs a veggie dog and some potato salad. He hovers by the condiments table for a long moment, which is well stocked overall, but for some inexplicable reason has an array of Frank’s RedHot sauce, in well over a dozen flavours. He’s prepared to just find a quiet corner to eat alone, but Ivan waves him over to where he’s perched on the arm of the Adirondack deck chair his boyfriend is sitting on. 

“Did Jackson ditch you? What a tool!” Ivan says. “Terrible.” 

“Despicable,” Drew deadpans around a mouthful of chips. 

“I honestly thank my lucky stars every day we aren’t genetically related,” Ivan says. 

Drew snorts. “Yeah, that bad host gene you gotta watch out for.” 

Connor settles himself on the ledge of the deck, perking up a little bit at this. He had wondered what exactly the deal was with Jackson and his brothers, none of whom look remotely alike aside from all having dark hair, but it hadn’t seemed exactly polite to inquire about it. “Are you guys, uh, step siblings?” Connor asks cautiously. 

Ivan shakes his head. “Nah we’re all adopted, like Batman’s kids!” 

“Batman has, like, two actual genetic children,” Drew says. 

“Yup, exactly like Batman’s kids that’s what I said,” Ivan says, putting a hand over his boyfriend’s mouth. 

“Hey!” Jackson says, reappearing through the sliding glass door and coming to sit beside Connor on the deck, Bernadette trailing behind him and sniffing at Connor’s plate interestedly until Jackson shoos her away and she settles beside Connor, looking up at him with literal puppy dog eyes. 

“No, not for puppies!” Jackson says sweetly, pulling Bernadette into his lap, and Connor literally has to turn away before he physically turns into the heart-eyes emoji. “Not for puppies.” 

“I really don’t think you want this veggie dog, buddy,” Connor says. 

Jackson perks up at that, “Oh, are you a vegetarian?” And for a second Connor wonders if this is either going to spiral into a tirade against vegetarianism or a rant about militant vegans, but Jackson mostly just sounds genuinely interested. 

Connor shrugs, “Not really, I just don’t really like a lot of meat things like steaks and burgers and stuff. Also my mom used to make us veggie dogs a lot as kids so it just kinda tastes like I think it should taste.” 

Jackson nods thoughtfully, rubbing Bernadette’s belly. “Yeah, growing up I always had Cool Whip, and actual whipped cream is good but it never tastes like I think it should.” 

Ivan snorts loudly and Jackson turns to glare at him, smacking at his ankles, “You got something to say?” 

“Nope, you’re entitled to your wrong opinion.” 

“I’m sorry we can’t all have a sophisticated flavour palette like you do Mr. Hot-Sauce-Goes-With-Everything.” 

“Loving hot sauce is _literally_ our birthright...or...adoption right?” Ivan says. “Whatever, semantics.” 

“Your birthright?” Connor asks, setting his empty plate down. 

Jackson groans as Ivan loudly exclaims, “You didn’t tell him about the hot sauce empire!?” 

“Oh that is my cue to leave,” Drew says standing. “I cannot handle hearing this story another fucking time.” 

“In 1899— ” Ivan starts dramatically. 

“It was 1896,” Jackson corrects. 

“ —Our dad’s grandma’s dad was like, wow I bet I could make a bunch of really fucking good hot sauce from cayenne peppers— ” 

“ —Is that an exact quote?” 

“ —So he did and it was really freaking bomb. So now we’re living off that sweet sweet Frank’s RedHot money cause our Great-Great Grandfather was Frank RedHot himself.” 

Connor frowns, not sure if Ivan’s actually being serious or if he’s fucking with him, but when he hedges a glance at Jackson he’s rubbing the back of his neck like he’s almost...embarrassed?

“Is he, is he joking?” Connor asks. 

“I really wish he was,” Jackson says. 

“Aw Jackie don’t be embarrassed, you’re the heir to the Frank’s RedHot Fortune, that makes you an incredibly eligible bachelor!” 

Jackson turns and hisses something at his brother that Connor doesn’t quite catch, but it must be serious enough that Ivan says, “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” and follows after his boyfriend to where he’s chatting with some other people. 

“Jesus,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s okay,” Connor says, still a little mentally lopsided from the whole thing. “I promise I’m not hanging out with you for your hot sauce money.”

Jackson grins and the butterflies in his stomach stir up such a frenzy that he almost regrets eating so much potato salad, Jackson’s eyes darting down and back up again. 

“I uh, I think we’re going to do fireworks pretty soon,” Jackson says standing suddenly and wiping his hands on his thighs. “I’m going to see if Clark needs a hand, we’re on fireworks duty.” 

Connor nods, sipping at another San Pellegrino and taking in the rest of the party while Jackson slips inside. It’s getting dark out, the backyard lit up by hanging lanterns, citronella candles staked into the ground on the outskirts of the cluster of party guests, leaving a soft glow over everything. Connor can’t help but compare this party to all the ones Jared had dragged him to over the last year, Forty drunk sweaty people crammed into someone’s shitty student apartment or into the booth at some bar. And to be fair Connor had at least kind of had fun at almost all of those parties, but this is so much more his speed. A lot more chill and grown up, even though no one here was probably much older than twenty-four or twenty-five. 

Connor’s totally fine to chill by himself, but one of the hockey team girlfriends comes over and gently bullies him into coming over and hanging out with them near the unlit fire pit. Even though as a bookish gay Connor has the same general attitude towards jocks as early 2000s pop punk did towards preps. But just like the latter, jocks haven’t ever really done anything particularly heinous to him to deserve that distaste. 

He manages to mostly nod and make enough interested noises to get through a whole conversation about the NHL playoffs until he can drift off to where Drew and Clark’s girlfriend Elle are having an animated discussion about, of all things, rocking climbing. Connor knows even less about this than he does about hockey, but Elle very kindly changes the subject not long after Connor joins their little circle. 

“So Connor,” Elle asks, taking a sip from her red plastic cup of red wine, “Are you in college?” 

“Yeah,” Connor says, caught a little off guard, clicking the little pop tab on the top of his empty can. “Out west though, but I grew up here, so I’m home for the summer.” 

Elle nods politely and takes another sip of wine. 

“You didn’t go to Pioneer did you?” Drew asks. 

“Oh, no, but my, uh, my stepbrother did actually,” Connor says. 

“Who’s your stepbrother?” Drew asks, genuinely curious. 

“Evan Hansen?” Connor says, and he can’t help the way it slips out like a question, mostly because he really doubts that Evan, the face of teenage social anxiety, is the kind of person who has much of a rep to speak of in such a large high school. But to his surprise recognition sparks in Drew’s eyes. 

“Oh, yeah I know Evan. He’s dating Jared Kleinman right?” 

Of fucking course all roads lead back to Jared. 

“Yeah,” Connor says flatly. 

“Jared’s awesome, we did Model UN together.” 

“Small world,” Elle says cheerfully, and god she has no fucking clue how much of a theme that’s been in Connor’s life as of late. 

“Are you going to Jared’s birthday thing next week?” Drew asks. 

“What?” Connor says, the word seeming to stick to the roof of his mouth. 

“Jared’s birthday thing? At the bowling alley? It’s next week, you’re going right?” 

His ‘no’ gets caught in his throat like a shard of glass when Connor’s brain catches up enough to let what Drew’s said sink in. He hadn’t heard about any sort of birthday thing for Jared. Not even from Evan, who normally was trying his damndest to coordinate any sort of social interaction with the three of them. 

Which means that he’s not _invited_ to Jared’s birthday party. 

Which okay yes sounds very pathetic and middle school, but current weirdness aside Jared is still one of Connor’s best friends, and he’d thought well, after what Jared had said at Zoe’s grad he’d thought maybe he’d actually mattered more to Jared than he’d let himself hope before. 

But turns out Connor was right in the first place, that he’d just been some sort of placeholder in Jared’s life when he didn’t have any other options. 

Pathetic, pathetic, of course they’re happier, safer, better off without you, why would they want you to be there if they can help it, Connor’s brain spits at him as his stomach tries to turn itself inside out and fuck, _fuck_ , now Elle and Drew are both looking at him with timid pity and fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

“I uh, sorry, I need to— ” is all Connor manages out before he’s turning on his heel and makes it all the way to the foyer before he realizes he has absolutely no fucking reason to go home. Zoe’s still acting completely fucking weird and his mom is off enjoying her weekend with her replacement family, so no chance for any comfort there. But it’s not like he really has anywhere else he can go. He can feel himself steadily climbing towards a complete emotional breakdown, like the slow climb of a rollercoaster up a hill, and he’s terrified what exactly he’s going to do when he reaches the peak. 

His brain is scrambling to try and find something, anything, to help him calm down, but he can’t focus for longer than a few seconds on anything other than the fact that Jared and Evan could not give less of a shit about him if they tried. 

“Connor?” Someone asks softly behind him, and Connor tries not to be too upset when it’s not Jackson, but Ivan. “Hey are you okay? Drew said he thought you might be, uh, not okay.” 

Connor opens and closes his mouth uselessly a few times, the words failing to bubble to the surface and Ivan gets a very serious but calm expression on his face. “Would you like me to get Jackson? Nod for yes.” 

Connor nods, too hard, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling the first tear escaping down across his nose. 

“Just stay here, I’ll be right back,” Ivan says. 

Connor leans against the tasteful little side table they have in the foyer, studying the veining in the tiles on the floor and making himself promise to just keep his shit together for five more seconds, and five more seconds, and five more seconds, and five more seconds. Which is how he manages to not completely fall apart in the few minutes it takes Ivan to come back with Jackson on his heels. 

“Hey,” Jackson says gently, but without the level of patronization Connor has grown used to from teachers and medical professionals. “Do you wanna go downstairs so we can talk in private?” 

Connor manages a nod and Jackson places a gentle hand on his shoulder blade and leads him into a hallway and then down a set of stairs into the basement, most of which seems to be an open plan living area with a bar off to one side, and a huge TV with a large sectional clustered around it. There’s also a little home gym set up in one corner, and Connor finds himself staring blankly at the elliptical while Jackson disappears for a minute and then returns with a box of tissues and a plastic Finding Nemo cup filled with water. 

“Here, why don’t we sit?” Jackson says conversationally, like they’ve just slipped out of the party for a nice chat and not because Connor is an emotional time bomb. Nevertheless Connor appreciates the offer and practically collapses into the soft leather of the sectional. 

Jackson sets the tissues on the table but offers the cup to Connor, who shakes his head and sinks further into the couch. 

“Is it okay if I sit beside you?” Jackson asks, and Connor nods furiously, realizing suddenly that he’s been crying, for a while if his wet cheeks are any indication. Jackson rests his hand on Connor’s back again. 

“Can I help you breathe?” Jackson asks, his voice still very steady, and Connor nods, but less frantic this time. “Okay, in,” Jackson says, and Connor obliges, “Okay great, now out.” Connor exhales and Jackson continues, helping him breathe for a few long minutes while the sounds of the party continue on faintly above them. 

“Can I have the water now?” Connor manages finally in a voice that’s brittle like the ice formed over a river, barely holding back the watery flood of emotions he can still feel threatening to swell inside him. 

Jackson hands him the cup and Connor drinks gratefully, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand but keeping a hold of the cup, happy to have something to do with his hands. “This is cute,” he says nonchalantly, as if he had not just mysteriously sobbed in front of the guy he has a crush on. 

Jackson smiles anyways. “Oh it’s Clark’s, he’s got a whole little bachelor pad down here.” 

Connor nods wordlessly and runs his finger over the embossing of smiling fish. “Do you want to punch something?” Jackson says very sweetly and Connor’s so taken aback that the bark of incredulous laughter just kind of happens. 

“What!?” 

“I just,” Jackson starts, waving his hand in a circle. “I know sometimes it feels good, and we have a punching bag and stuff.” He gestures towards the little home gym and there is indeed a large red punching bag set up in one corner. 

“Oh,” Connor says, “Oh fuck, sorry I thought you were like…” 

“Volunteering?” Jackson says, raising his eyebrows. 

“I wouldn’t,” Connor says quickly, “I don’t— I’ve never. I would never. A wall maybe. But I’ve never hurt anyone. Not like that.” 

“I trust you,” Jackson says, very softly, and Connor realizes that Jackson’s hand is still on his back, unable to think much for a moment beyond the place where all that keeps them from skin to skin contact is a few thin layers of cloth. 

“So, no to punching then?” Jackson prompts after a long moment and Connor nods, surprised to find himself past that usual impulse to just _break something_ that normally rises up in him at some point during an episode. 

He’s gotten very good at repairing drywall over the years. 

“Yeah, I think I’m good,” Connor says, gesturing with his plastic cup.“Could I get some more water maybe?” 

“Absolutely!” Jackson says, standing, the absence of his hand on Connor’s back like the imprint a hand leaves on a foggy pain of glass. He doesn’t disappear back down the little hallway which must lead to Clark’s room, but instead walks around the bar, where there must be a sink. Jackson stands for a second, letting the tap run cold, and Connor’s heart squeezes hard at the simple gentle consideration. 

“Here you go,” Jackson says handing him the cup back as he sits back down, and Connor takes a few sips of water. There’s something about the way Jackson seems almost disinterested in what happened, his casual presence here with him, like hiding away in the basement for part of this party had been part of his plan all along, that weirdly makes Connor want to spill everything to him. Maybe because it’s the exact emotional opposite of his mom lovingly, but frantically, demanding to know what had happened every single time he’d called her in the middle of the day to get him from school. 

Connor takes another few sips of water, and then leans forward to set the cup on the low coffee table, taking a long deep breath as he settles back into the couch. Jackson smiles gently at him and the urge to tell him everything, to tell _someone_ everything, overflows in him like one of those giant water buckets at the waterpark, the inevitable crash taking him by surprise even though he’d known it had been slowly building for a long time. 

“So, uh,” Connor says, licking his lips and tucking his hair behind his ears. 

“So,” Jackson says. 

“Can I tell you something?” Connor says cautiously. 

Jackson nods. “Of course.” 

Connor worries his lip for a long second, trying to figure out a way to begin that isn’t ‘I slept with my stepbrother’s boyfriend.’ Mostly because he doesn’t want to sound like a horrible person, but at least partially because he doesn’t exactly want to detail his sexual history to the dude he likes. 

“So, okay, uh, my stepbrother, Evan, he’s dating this guy Jared right?” 

“Right,” Jackson says slowly with the softest hint of realization, and Connor backtracks immediately, already knowing where Jackson’s thoughts are headed. 

“I don’t like Jared, I’m not secretly in love with my stepbrother’s boyfriend, I promise this is not that kind of confession,” Connor says, and then fuck, might as well add, “I’m not into Evan either. He’s my stepbrother, that would be weird.” 

“Hey, no judgment, I’ve seen _Life with Derek_.” 

Connor snorts out a laugh. “I’m kidding, kidding,” Jackson says. “Sorry, continue.” 

“Anyways,” he goes on, “so uh, Jared and Evan started dating at the beginning of the summer, but before that— okay sorry the chronology on this is a bit weird, maybe it’s easier to just— okay sorry, so Jared and I go to college together. That’s how we met.” 

“Right,” Jackson says. 

“So we were in dorms together and we really got along and we ended up like, uh, hooking up casually. Just like a friends with benefits thing, cause like I knew he liked this other guy from back home. And then I get home and it fucking turns out that that guy is Evan, right?” 

Jackson’s eyebrows rise dramatically, but he doesn’t say anything. “Right, so now I’ve like, slept with my stepbrother’s boyfriend even though they one hundred percent were not a thing when we were doing shit or whatever. And things have always been kind of weird between me and Evan, and it was just even _worse_ coming home because he’s calling my mom ‘mom’ and like, him and Zoe are all close now and I _know_ the right thing to do would just have been to tell him right away but I just fucking couldn’t make things worse than they were.”

“And I don’t know how he’s going to fucking react to this like, Jared’s my friend and it’s not like I actually want to fuck up his relationship. Especially since him and Evan have been friends for a million years so they’re probably going to take either other’s sides about it _anyways_.” 

Connor can feel himself talking just a little too fast, trying to stay just ahead of the cresting wave of his thoughts so they don’t crash over him. “And so shit has been really awkward between the three of us, because Evan knows like me and Jared were in dorms together and were kinda friends I guess. And it really felt like it was getting better but then Ivan’s boyfriend was like ‘oh are you going to Jared’s birthday party’ and I didn’t even fucking _know_ this was happening. And it’s not like he doesn’t have the chances to invite me he literally is at my house like every fucking day so I guess they just hate me now because it’s _my_ fault shit is awkward.” 

Connor stops abruptly, and then adds, “Also something is wrong with Zoe and I don’t know what and she clearly doesn’t want anyone asking her about it, and I don’t know how to help without just totally plowing through all her boundaries.” 

He exhales. “Okay, sorry, that’s it I’m done for real now.” 

Jackson lets out a long low whistle. “That does sound like a lot.” 

“I know,” Connor says, and then after a second of hesitation, “Sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” 

Connor fidgets with his bracelet. “Well because like, you were so nice to invite me to your party and now I’m ruining it like, I _barely_ know you and I’m just dumping all my shit on you and like, I don’t know, you’re like, too normal and good for my bullshit I guess?” 

“ _Connor_ ,” Jackson says, his hand reaching out and then falling back into his lap, “Well first of all, I can guarantee you that I’m much less normal than you probably think I am. But I mean, I don’t think we’re _barely_ friends. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.” 

“Shit, sorry I didn’t mean— of course we’re friends,” Connor says, even though he still feels wobbly about it at best, sure that at any moment Jackson will become fed up with him. 

“I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time, that sounds like a really complicated situation with no easy answers. And I really hope there is some sort of misunderstanding with the whole party thing, but if there’s not, honestly fuck ‘em. Like not to be rude to your friend and your stepbrother but that’s a fucking dick move.” Connor lets out a watery little laugh as Jackson continues, “Right!? Like who the fuck does that?” 

It’s nice, having someone be so quickly and unquestionably on his side about something, especially since Connor can’t remember the last time someone was. No matter how upset he was his mom did love to remind him to consider other people’s feelings. Which was obviously a very good thing to do, Connor’s not knocking the concept of empathy, but there’s a difference between him getting into a snit with Zoe and some assholes at his school deliberately provoking him into an episode. 

“Anyways,” Connor says reaching for a tissue and wiping off his face, “it’s just been so much for so long and I just kinda…” 

“Reached your limit?” Jackson says. 

“I was gonna say ‘snapped’ but let’s go with yours, it sounds way better.” 

Jackson presses his lips together and gives Connor a shy little smile, “Is there anything else you want...I can uh, pop upstairs and get you a snack or something? We don't have to go back up right away unless you want to.”

“You don't have to stay with me,” Connor says, taken aback. “You're like hosting a whole party, you shouldn't ignore all those people.”

Jackson opens his mouth and then closes it, going through a whole facial journey before he opens his mouth again. “Okay so I'm going to say something and I need you to know I mean it in the most, like, not Jay Gatsby way possible.”

“Alright,” Connor says slowly.

“So I uh,” Jackson waves a hand uselessly in midair, “We're sort of only having this party because uh, I wanted to invite you?”

“Wha— ”

“Well, okay, okay like we were already planning to do something for the Fourth because, like, my dad was going to be out of town and normally we go camping and stuff, but we weren't this year so like, Ivan and Clark were gonna invite like their people and we were just gonna do dinner and fireworks. But then it was like, well if we make it like an actual party then I could invite you without uh, like, giving the game away?”

“...I...what? What game?”

“Just that, if you were here with like me and my brothers and my brother's girlfriend and my brother's boyfriend it would just be _blatantly_ obvious that I um...that I, like you.”

Connor's brain short circuits. Or no, it doesn't even short circuit, it aggressively implodes like when people put cell phones in the microwave to see what happens. He can see Jackson's face slowly morph from trepidation to anxiety as Connor sits there blankly, trying to will the microwaved circuitry of his brain to say something, _anything_ in the face of this miraculousness.

“And like I know we don't know each other _that_ well so, like, obviously if something was going to happen we'd maybe wanna hang out more as friends first and like, maybe nothing will happen — and that's totally fine! — but maybe it would? Or like if you're just not interested at all like, I still really like you as a person and we could still totally be friends! I mean like, if you want to?” Jackson says, with far too much enthusiasm as if to try and counterbalance the trepidation Connor can tell is seeping through.

“I just,” Connor finally manages. “You like me?”

“I probably should have told you at a better time,” he says sheepishly, looking down, and Connor fumbles for the perfect thing to say, he should really be better at this, he spends all his time reading and writing but when it actually matters, when putting the perfect string of words together actually matters in real life, he just draws a blank.

So he doesn't say anything, and just reaches out for Jackson's hand, he can't really intertwine their fingers, and something about that seems too intimate and terrifying so Connor settles for tucking his thumb around his wrist.

“Oh?” Jackson says very softly.

“I spent all day getting ready to come here,” Connor whispers, even though it's not like there's anyone else around to hear this confession.

“You look really, really good,” Jackson whispers back.

Connor makes a weird noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, just a pure release of pent-up emotion.

“I'm sorry my timing sucks,” Jackson says, no longer whispering, but his voice pitched down low, like the ASMR relaxation tapes his mom likes to listen to.

“That's okay,” Connor says.

“We don't, we don't have to do anything too crazy. Especially not right away.”

“Yeah,” Connor says nodding, “I think maybe, slow is a good idea?”

“Slow is great,” Jackson says, and rotates his hand so Connor's hand rests against his palm to palm. 

“And you're sure right, that you like me?” Connor says, a sliver of cautionary paranoia unable to be fully encapsulated by his happiness and surprise. 

Jackson just laughs though. “Oh I am very sure. I may have um, mentioned you to my brothers. A lot. Which is uh, partially why they were like that.” 

Even Connor's self-loathing can't quite twist that into something panic-inducing. 

Jackson likes him. 

Jackson likes him enough to be telling people about it. In a good way. 

“Also,” Jackson says, “I may have purchased and then read the book you were reading so we could talk about it.” 

“Holy shit,” Connor says awestruck. 

“That's actually what was in the package. I'm not done yet though,” Jackson says. 

Somehow this confession makes him more lightheaded than any of the Jared stuff has and Connor resists the urge to lean forward and put his head between his knees. The hot cute boy from down the street likes him back and also bought a book specifically so he could talk to Connor about it. 

Honestly he should probably just die now, this really feels like his life has peaked. 

“Hey sorry, I know this is a lot on top of everything,” Jackson says, “but um, could you just uh, confirm that you do in fact like me back and I’m not just like, misinterpreting this?” 

He’s fumbling over his words, flushed in the face and not quite looking at Connor, and it’s so strange, yet weirdly endearing, to see suave and collected Jackson Wayne tripping over his words. And for _him._

“I do, I like you,” Connor says. 

“Hey guys!?” Ivan calls followed by the sound of his footsteps as he slowly makes his was down the stairs, “No worries if you’re gonna chill down here longer but I thought I should let you know that the fireworks are starting soon and— _holy shit!_ ”

Ivan must have caught sight of their still touching hands, and his footsteps stop. Connor turns to see him paused a few steps from the bottom, completely frozen in place. 

“Do you care if my brothers know?” Jackson says. 

Connor shrugs. “Not really?” All of Jackson’s brothers have been really nice to him, and any of the weirdness he’d experienced around them is pretty much explained by Jackson having a crush on him. (Which, not to beat a dead horse, but holy shit Jackson has a crush on him.) 

Jackson sighs looking over his shoulder at Ivan. “It’s fine, go tell them.” 

“ _LUKE!”_ Ivan immediately shouts, running back up the stairs, “ _CLARK! Guess what Jackie is doing right now!?”_

Jackson sighs and Connor’s heart flutters. “Fireworks?” he asks.

Connor nods and Jackson stands, their hands coming apart reluctantly as they climb back upstairs, all three of Jackson’s brothers already giving them knowing grins as they gather on the deck to watch the show. 

Connor reluctantly heads home afterwards, Jackson promising to text him in the morning and running a hand over Connor’s arm softly as they say goodbye. 

Zoe’s still up when Connor gets home, sitting in the living room on her laptop, not a single kegger guest in sight. 

“Hey,” Connor says cautiously, like he might scare her away if he says anything more, very deliberately not asking how her evening went. 

“Hey,” Zoe says. “Were they any good?”

“Was what any good?” Connor says, bending down to unlace his boots. 

“The fireworks? Were they good? I could hear them from here.” 

Connor frowns, trying to remember. They might have been the New Year’s Eve show at Disney World for all that Connor remembers, the whole thing eclipsed by Jackson having reached over and rested his hand on the small of Connor’s back right as they started. 

Even Disney can’t compete with that.

“Yeah,” Connor says, “They were great.” 


	4. Mid July.

**Mid July.**

The best part about the timing of everything happening with Jackson is that it becomes incredibly easy for Connor to avoid Evan and Jared without it being incredibly obvious that he’s avoiding them. He spends most of Thursday and Friday with Jackson, going for walks with Bernadette and going to get food at the restaurant Luke works at. Connor even tags along to one of Jackson’s hockey practices, chilling up in the stands with a book but finding himself more than a little bit transfixed by Jackson on the ice, moving across the ice in strong fluid curves as the team runs drills. 

And then on Saturday afternoon, when his mom, Heidi, and Evan roll up home from Jared’s cottage, all looking incredibly well tanned, Connor just escapes down the street to Jackson’s house and spends all day watching cheesy 90s teen romcoms based on literary classics, which seems to be Jackson’s favourite sub-genre of movies. 

“Okay this is ridiculous,” Connor says when they get to the hacky sack scene in _She’s All That_. 

“Oh absolutely it is,” Jackson says, “But you could not talk shit about this scene to fourteen year old me, he thought it was very deep.” 

“Adorable,” Connor says. 

“Though to be fair at least part of that was because I was super into Freddie Prinze Jr.,” Jackson says, his arm draped over the back of the section, his hand dangling and just barely brushing Connor’s shoulder. It’s like the leave-room-for-Jesus equivalent of snuggling, but it’s nice nonetheless. 

They get part way through _10 Things I Hate About You_ , before Connor’s stomach growls almost comically loud and Jackson insists on going upstairs to get food. Connor trails behind Jackson up the stairs and down the hall towards the kitchen, mid-sentence explaining to Jackson exactly why he hates Lovecraft so much when Jackson stops abruptly and Connor smacks into his back. 

“Ivan for _fuck’s sake_!” Jackson exclaims, and Connor peers over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Ivan and Drew engaged in some seriously heavy making out on the living room couch. 

“You have a boy over too!” Ivan hisses back, but it’s really undercut by the fact that he’s literally lying underneath his boyfriend. 

“Yeah and I don’t wanna scar him!” Jackson says and Connor’s heart just about pole vaults out of his chest. 

Ivan rolls his eyes, but takes Drew’s hand when he rolls off him and offers it. “Alright, alright, we’ll leave you prudes alone.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Jackson mutters, continuing towards the kitchen, Connor still at his heels. “Sorry about that, they’re like fucking rabbits I _swear_.” 

“Did they just get together?” 

Jackson lets out a little huffing laugh, “They’ve been together for four years.” 

“Seriously? Holy shit!?”

“They’re just….like that,” Jackson trails off running a hand through his hair. “Sorry again.” 

Connor shrugs. “I kinda get it. Like, Evan and Jared aren’t that bad but I do really try and avoid the basement when they’re down there. Also Evan has finally discovered concealer but he keeps getting the wrong colour so he’ll just have these big yellow jaundice splotches on his neck.” 

“Ahhhh young love,” Jackson says pulling open the fridge. “Does a grilled cheese sound good?” 

Connor sits at the island, the same spot he’d sat in last time when him and Jackson had just been friends. Well, technically they were still friends, but maybe friends 2.0, and he watches the outline of the muscles in Jackson’s back as he preps the pan.

“Okay so we have, like, American slices but we also have some really nice sharp cheddar.” 

“Will you super judge me if I want American?” Connor asks, leaning forward until his whole torso is on the island, his arms crossed in front of him. 

“I would _never_ ,” Jackson says with a laugh. “Actually I usually have processed too. All of us, me and Luke and Clark and Ivan, we didn’t grow up like _this_ ,” he gestures with a spatula, but it’s clear what he means — Jackson didn’t grow up rich, it was thrusted upon him. It’s funny, all the ways Connor didn’t know how lucky he was until his mom started dating Heidi — like he wasn’t stupid, he’d always known they had money, but there’s a difference between knowing and understanding. 

When he was still in high school, just a few weeks after Connor had finally met Heidi, he remembers her dropping by the house with a huge jumbo pack of toilet paper because it had been on a good deal. Or the fact that Evan had submitted something like forty entries to different essay contests to help cover costs for school (even though Connor knows for a fact that his mom stepped up and helped pay for a lot of his tuition). Even though both Heidi and his mom are working great jobs now, there’s still those little habits he knows they can’t quite shake. 

“Anyways,” Jackson says, dropping the buttered bread onto the pan with a sizzle, “I still love Kraft Mac and Cheese with ketchup, that’s one of my favourite foods.” 

“Ketchup?” Connor says wrinkling his nose, “Oh god, you’re one of those people.” 

“Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it,” Jackson says, shooting him a flirty little smirk over his shoulder. 

Connor scoffs, surveying his nails, and god he really needs to repaint them. Maybe he’ll ask Zoe if she wants to hang out together and do their nails, if he can get her at the house for more than five minutes. He almost wonders if she’s in a secret band or something, which he knows seems kind of far-fetched but it is the kind of thing that she’d never willingly tell any of them about. And he knows that she sometimes did play at open mic night at one of the cafe’s downtown, and she never told their mom when she was, to their moms continued annoyance. 

Jackson’s just transferring the grilled cheese to a plate when Luke walks in wearing his work hat, a black baseball cap with flames on it that would make Guy Fieri jealous. 

“Oh hey guys,” Luke says brightly, pulling his shoes off. “What’s up?” 

“Not much,” Jackson says lightly. “Just chilling, watching some movies downstairs.” 

“We’re working our way through the 90s high school movie catalogue,” Connor adds helpfully. 

“Oh my god, Jackie, please tell me you did _not_ make him watch _She’s All That_!?” 

“Dude, fuck off,” Jackson says with no malice, swatting at Luke with his spatula as he ducks and sneaks the other way around the island. 

“Hack! Ey! Sack!” Luke calls triumphantly, laughing his way out of the room. 

“I’d tell you my brothers were normal people who aren’t like this when you’re around but uh, I don’t believe in telling lies,” Jackson says, sliding a plate towards Connor, the grilled cheese neatly cut in half on the diagonal. 

They don’t actually end up finishing _10 Things I Hate About You_ , too busy chatting while Connor eats, and then relocating upstairs to Jackson’s bedroom. It had felt too intimate to be in there the first time Connor had gone up a few days ago, Jackson’s bed neatly made but his desk a helpless pile of things, a neatly framed row of team photos and pictures of Jackson and his brothers on the shelf above his bed. 

Part of the problem, Connor figures, is that not only does Jackson not have anywhere to sit that isn’t his bed (there’s a desk chair but like the desk it’s absolutely piled with stuff), it’s also a queen bed, which makes the jump to what exactly they could be doing in that bed even easier. But Jackson sprawls down in the bed upside down in about the most friendly and non-sexual way you could ever sprawl in a bed, and while Connor lingers on his feet for a little while, somewhere in the middle of his rant about why S.E. Hinton is a punk ass bitch (even if _The Outsiders_ is amazing) he finds himself just naturally coming to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Around about seven Connor gets a text from his mom asking if he’s planning to come home for dinner, and as much as he’d love to stay at Jackson’s even longer, he knows that his dad is going to be back from his trip tonight, and Connor’s not quite ready for a meet the parents situation. 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Jackson says as Connor relaces up his boots. 

“I think I can make it the dangerous three blocks alone in this upper-middle class neighbourhood,” Connor jokes, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he straightens up. 

“Okay,” Jackson says sweetly. “I’ll see you soon then.” 

“Oh, actually,” Connor says with sudden realization, “Would you at all be able to, I mean like obviously only if you want to and if you’re not busy, but uh, normally Evan drives me to work but like now that all this stuff is happening with Jared…” 

“Yeah, I can probably give you a ride,” Jackson says. “I have a conference call at like 2pm, but as long as it’s before that I can.” Jackson worked from home, mostly doing data entry and other ‘glorified intern tasks’ as he put it. 

“Yeah my shift starts at noon,” Connor says, that blessed swell of relief of something he hadn’t even really had to get stressed about fills his chest. 

“Can I come pick you up or do you want to meet me here?” 

“Whichever is easier I guess? My house maybe?” Connor says, his mom and Heidi will be at work, as will Zoe, and Evan’s going to have to find out sooner rather than later. It’s not like he doesn’t want to tell his family about Jackson, it’s just that he knows as soon as they know about him his mom will be dropping hints about how much they’d love to have him over. And he’s just not quite ready for that. 

As it is his mom gives him a questioning once over when Connor gets home. “Hey sunshine, how was your day?” 

“It was good,” Connor says, crossing his arms and tucking his hands into his armpits. 

“We all already ate,” his mom says, “but everything’s on the stove. We did chicken taco bowls.” 

“Sounds good, thanks mom,” Connor says, and slips off into the kitchen to avoid any additional questioning. The door to the basement is open and Connor can hear the drifting giddy sound of Evan on the phone, presumably with Jared, over the sound of his own banging around in the kitchen. Zoe comes drifting down the stairs at one point while he’s eating, humming along to something, a thick pair of purple headphones Connor had bought her for Christmas plugged into her phone. 

He debates asking her about doing their nails, but he figures the headphones are a hint he should take and finishes off his taco salad, Heidi coming into the kitchen and uncorking a bottle of wine as he puts his plate in the dishwasher. 

“Hey stranger,” Heidi says cheerfully giving him a little hipcheck, “How’ve you been?” 

“Oh, you know, good,” Connor says vaguely. “How was the cottage.” 

“So much fun,” Heidi says, rummaging around on her tiptoes for the wine glasses in the

high cupboard. 

“I got it,” Connor says, going over and grabbing them down for her. 

“You’re such an angel,” Heidi says gratefully, “But no, the cottage was lots and lots of fun. I will say though, Jared’s parents were a bit disappointed they didn’t get to meet you. I guess between us and Jared they’d heard a lot about you.” 

“Ha, yeah, maybe next time,” Connor says and then slips upstairs to his room, not wanting to spend any amount of time thinking about what exactly Jared has told his parents about him. Especially since _apparently_ their friendship exists in some fucked up limbo where Jared tells his parents about him, but doesn’t invite him to his fucking birthday. 

He’s also not sure how much of this Evan knows, or doesn’t know, but Connor has a pretty strong hunch that he’ll probably take his boyfriend’s side, so avoiding Evan just seems like the most painless thing to do for a little while. Though he does feel a bit bad the next morning when he comes down to grab some food before work and Evan is clearly ready to drive him in. 

“Oh, shit, I meant to tell you,” Connor says, forcing it out nonchalantly even though he’s been bracing himself for this conversation since he got up that morning. “I’m actually getting a ride into work today.” 

“Oh,” Evan says, his face falling ever so slightly, “Are you sure, I uh, it’s not a problem for me to do it, honestly.” 

“Yeah no, I already set it up so like, I don’t wanna cancel now,” Connor says vaguely and Evan nods. 

“Sure, okay, well uh. Have a nice time at work then,” Evan says a in a sort of deflatedly cheerful way, like one of those helium party balloons a few days later. 

A little drop of guilt pangs in Connor, but it’s easy enough to ignore, especially when Jackson drives up a few minutes later and gives a little honk for him. It’s all very teen movie and Connor can’t help but beam at him as he takes the front steps at a clip. 

“Hey,” Jackson says through the rolled down window, “I brought Bernadette, is that cool? She loves a good car ride.” 

“Oh my god?” Connor says, catching sight of Bernadette excitedly pressing her nose to the window, tail wagging furiously behind her. “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

She gives him a few excited sniffs when Connor climbs into the passenger seat, licking his ear once which causes him to let out a truly embarrassing involuntary little squawk. 

“Bernie, get down, be a good girl,” Jackson says, pushing her away from Connor, and she settles in the backseat. 

Jackson insists on stopping at one of the local drive thru coffee places, refusing to let Connor pay for his own drink and letting him give the dog treat the girl at the window hands over to Bernadette who sniffs at it excitedly before taking it very. very gently from his hand. 

“Gentle, that’s a good girl,” Jackson coos at her, checking his rearview before merging back into traffic. Most days Connor regrets working a twenty minute drive from home, but today the drive seems far too short before Jackson is pulling off around the corner from the bookstore. 

“Do you need a pick up later?” Jackson asks, taking a sip from his iced coffee. 

“Nah, my stepmom always picks me up when I work the afternoon shift.” 

“Okay cool,” Jackson says, “Well I’ll see you later then? Maybe we could go see a movie later this week or something?” 

Connor’s heart trips forward, a stumbling pang in his chest as he realizes Jackson is actually asking him on a date. Which okay, sure, maybe should be less of a big deal after three solid days of hanging around each other, but it’s still a next step, and Connor finds himself scrambling for the loose change of his thoughts. 

“Yeah that’d be— nice. I’d like that. A lot.” 

Jackson grins at him. “Okay, I’ll text you then.” 

“Totally,” Connor says, and Jackson tilts his head when he doesn’t move to go. 

“Don’t be late for your shift,” he says sweetly. 

Connor blinks. “Oh, right, duh. Fuck.” 

He unclips his seatbelt, surprised when he looks up to see Jackson looking at him with soft affection in his eyes, and before he can overthink it and talk himself out of it Connor finds himself leaning forward to kiss Jackson on the cheek. 

“Thanks for the ride,” Connor says in rush, and hopping out of the car as quickly as possible, his flight response kicking in hard. 

“Have a great shift,” Jackson says, sounding ever so slightly dazed, but grinning at Connor as he shuts the car door. 

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Alana says when Connor walks in. 

“Huh?” Connor asks, mind still reeling. 

“You’re smiling like you just won a prize or something,” Alana says, heaving her backpack up onto the counter and pulling a pair of neatly wrapped earbuds out of the front pocket. 

Connor touches his face gently, surprised to realize he really is grinning like an overly enthusiastic retail worker on commission. 

Alana gives him a little knowing smile, “Have fun!” she calls over her shoulder, already preoccupied with her earbuds as she pushes her way out of the store. 

The date they end up going on, on Tuesday morning which is perhaps the least romantic time you could go on a date objectively speaking, is mostly just wandering around downtown before Connor’s shift at work. Jackson’s sort of half-heartedly looking for a present for Clark’s girlfriend Elle, whose birthday is sometime in August. But mostly they’re just browsing around different shops, Connor spending a stupidly long time lusting over a pair of 90s docs at a vintage store while finally admitting to himself that the last thing he really needs are another pair of black boots. 

“So how long have your brother and his girlfriend been together?” Connor asks, half-heartedly browsing a rack of obnoxiously patterned short-sleeve button ups that he can’t help but associate with Jared. He forcibly pushes the thought out of his mind, focusing instead on Jackson, who hums while he thinks. 

“I guess...maybe like, three and a half years? Something like that? It’s funny actually because Ivan and Drew have been together longer but I know everyone’s kind of like, tick tock when are Clark and Elle gonna get engaged.” 

Connor nods understandingly, even though it’s not like this is something that he really understands on any level. “What about Luke? Is he seeing anyone?” 

Jackson clicks his tongue and laughs a bit. “I’m sure he is, Luke’s like a serial dater. First date no problem, lots of second dates, but cannot seem to get that elusive third date, you know? I think he just tends to come on a bit strong, he’s got a really romantic heart.”

There’s something so nice about getting to hear Jackson talk about his brothers with such soft affection, Connor feels a bit guilty that he hasn’t really been able to do the same for Zoe and Evan. He’s still racking his brain for the right thing to say to show Jackson that he also cares about his siblings, even if things are a bit rocky right now, when Jackson announces that he’s ready to check out somewhere else. 

It’s not even noon but Jackson insists that they go to _Ben & Jerry’s_ and get ice cream, Jackson telling him all about Luke’s serial dating history, which is so lengthy that he’s not even done when Connor finally finishes, and Connor is a perpetual slow eater. 

After _Ben & Jerry’s_ Jackson suggests they go check out some artisan co-op Connor’s never been to, but that seems like exactly the kind of place his mom would love, walls filled with handmade ceramic mugs and glasswork. Connor’s just browsing casually, Jackson investigating a case filled with jewelry made from those rolled paper beads on the other side of the store, when a woman breezes through a linen curtain at the back of the store, looks at him and says, “Connor?” 

Connor blinks, mouth falling open uselessly at the very weird experience of being addressed by name by a total stranger. “Uh, yeah?” 

“Oh my gosh, you look just like your mom,” The woman continues, sticking her hands in the pockets of the apron she’s wearing over her clothes, smears of something brown decorating the front of it. 

“Oh,” Connor says, trying and failing to place her from somewhere, and his confusion must show on his face because realization dawns on the woman’s face. 

“Oh my gosh,” She says shaking her head at herself, “Of course you don’t know who I am. I’m Bea, I’m Jared’s mom.” 

“Oo-h,” Connor says, managing somehow to make a single sound into two syllables in the kind of linguistically improbable move even Evan Hansen himself would be jealous of. 

“We were so sad to see you couldn’t come up to the cottage, but it’s always so tricky getting days off and such when the holiday’s in the middle of the week like that,” Jared’s mom (Bea? Mrs. Kleinman? What exactly is Connor supposed to call her?) continues nonchalantly. 

“Absolutely,” Connor says, because what else is he supposed to say, ‘No actually I could have totally got the time off work but I had the party of a cute boy to go to, sorry’? 

“Anyways, did your friend need help with anything,” she asks, leaning over towards Jackson, who gives a little dismissive wave. 

“Nah, I think we’re just going to browse a bit.” 

“Of course,” she says cheerfully, “Just let me know if you have any questions.” 

Jackson turns and starts looking at a different case of stuff, clearly having not noticed Connor’s social distress, curse him and his above average socializing skills. 

“It’s so funny that you came in today, I was just insisting to Jared that we needed to have you over for dinner. He talks about you all the time, and his dad and I have just been dying to meet you.” 

“Oh I don’t wanna impose…” Connor starts, trying to make eye contact with Jackson, who is browsing some reclaimed wood wall hangings, completely oblivious. 

“You could never, you’re our best friend’s stepson, so you’re basically already family,” She says brightly.

Oh great. As if the whole situation with Jared needed to be any _more_ incestuous. 

“Okay, well— ” Connor starts. 

“ —Are you free tomorrow night?” Jared’s mom says, cutting him off, “Or actually, Thursday would work better, does Thursday work for you?” 

Jackson seems to pick this moment to notice that Connor is in visible distress, abandoning the lure of handcrafted ceramics to come check on him. 

“Hey Connor, doesn’t your shift start pretty soon?” Jackson says casually, and Connor takes the bait. 

“Oh god yeah, we uh, better head out,” Connor says, even though his shift isn’t for another hour and a half. 

“Oh my gosh, go, go,” She says, waving a hand, “You know what, I’ll get your number from Jared and I’ll text you, okay?” 

“Sure totally,” Connor calls, letting himself be gently ushered out of the store by Jackson, and the two of them keep a steady pace halfway up the block. 

“Sorry, was that okay?” Jackson says slowing down to a more leisurely pace, “You just looked a little distressed so I figured…” 

“No that was great, honestly, thank you.” 

“‘Course,” Jackson says. “I’m gathering that was Jared’s mom then?” 

Connor nods. “Yeah I guess so, I’ve never met her before. Her and my stepmom, Heidi, they’re like best friends.” 

Jackson whistles low through his teeth. “Ah, yeah that makes things even more complicated then.” 

“Yeah,” Connor says, “I guess I’ll just hope that she either forgets dinner or takes a polite decline.” 

She doesn’t. Despite Connor’s best soft rejection efforts Jared’s mom is a very determined woman, which like, yeah maybe he should have seen coming. It also doesn’t help that she can just text his mom and tell him he’s having dinner with them, so he can’t even pretend like she’d said no. 

On the flipside, Connor has managed to avoid Jared and Evan, despite Evan actually making some pretty valiant efforts to talk to him. Including actually knocking on Connor’s bedroom door and asking if he had a second, which Connor had stopped right in its tracks, making an excuse about leaving something at Jackson’s house and not coming home until he knew for sure Evan was going to be at work. 

Not that it was exactly a burden, hanging out at Jackson’s house, though Connor could tell he was seriously restraining himself from commenting on Connor’s method of conflict resolution, or lack thereof. Connor hasn’t known Jackson very long but he can tell already that he’s a pretty upfront kind of person who likes to deal with conflict head on. Which yeah, is probably healthier than Connor’s ‘gonna bottle it up until I literally can’t anymore’ method, but Connor’s not even sure how he would begin to have that conversation with Jared, much less what he would say. 

So avoidance it was. Or it had been until Thursday evening when Jared showed up to his house with his crappy little compact car, Connor having had a corn and black bean salad foisted on him by his mother. He clutches the casserole dish to his chest, feeling stupid as Jared honks. 

“You can put that in the back, it’ll probably be safer,” Jared says when Connor climbs in, careful to watch his head. Jared hadn’t had his car with him out west, but there’d be a student car share service and he’d always gone for the same types of annoyingly compact models. Connor has to crank the seat so far back just to be comfortable, and he opts to just balance the dish on his knees rather than having to crawl into the backseat. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in like a month,” Jared says, reversing out of the driveway, “A little birdy told me you’re maybe sort of seeing some hunky dude down the lane.” 

“Was this birdy named Evan?” Connor says a bit tightly. 

“No she’s called Zoe actually,” Jared says, “Evan was weirdly tightlipped about it, he kept saying he was ‘respecting your privacy.’” He uses his pointer fingers to make air quotes while firmly gripping the wheel. 

“So what’s the 411?” Jared says waggling his eyebrows and Connor kind of wants to slap him for waiting until they were in a car to bring this up, so Connor literally does not have a means of escape unless he wants to somersault out the door and onto the freeway, black bean and corn salad making the heroic sacrifice with him. 

He doesn’t do that though, instead he tries to give Jared his most intimidating and icy glare, and says “I didn’t really think you’d want to know about it?” 

“What? Why?” Jared says scrunching up his nose and Connor scoffs instead of replying. “Oh, what you think it’ll hurt my feelings? I know I’m not your type. I met Thomas. And his fucking abs. You know what kinda abs I have? Abs-olute-ly nothing.” 

It’s such a stupid joke that Connor can’t help the little involuntary squeak of amusement that escapes from him like that little bit of air that escapes when you tie off a balloon. 

“Look if it makes you feel better, you’re only like, hmmmm, I’m gonna say 45% my type.” 

“Wow what an honour,” Connor says dryly. 

“You’re very welcome,” Jared says, incredibly pleased with himself, but after a long moment his expression softens and shifts, “You really don’t have to tell me about it, but I do hope like, that he’s nice and that it works out. You deserve a total hunky dude with abs if that’s what you want.” 

He says it with such fucking sincerity that it makes Connor blinding white hot with rage for an all-consuming few moments. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair that Jared gets to do this. To pretend like everything’s fine. To pretend he cares. To pretend like he’s Connor’s friend. Because this is what he cannot stand, not whether or not he gets invited to some stupid meaningless party but because Jared cannot seem to _fucking_ commit to whether or not he actually wants to be Connor’s friend at all. 

The wave of rage ebbs and then recedes in him slowly, and Connor comes back to himself clutching the glass dish for dear life. Jared’s body language has changed, shifted to accommodate for all the space of Connor’s rage, even if he’ll never acknowledge it. 

All he has to do is make it through dinner. He just needs to make it through dinner. 

“Home sweet home,” Jared says, a while later, finally breaking the silence as they pull into the driveway of a bright blue two-story, a white porch with an actual honest to god porch swing wrapping around the front. The kind of house that seems more like the setting of some great American play than the kind of place someone actually lives. 

“Here I can take that,” Jared says, gesturing for the salad now that he’s out of the car. 

“I got it,” Connor says, a little bit too brusquely. 

Jared gives him a judgmental little look. “Okay, you have fun trying to hold that with both hands and get out of the car without hitting your head.” 

Alright. Touche. Connor doesn’t give Jared the satisfaction of any sort of verbal confirmation and hands over the glass dish wordlessly, and it is, admittedly, a lot easier to climb out with both of his arms free. 

Jared carries the dish all the way inside, managing to quite impressively toe open the screen door with his foot, the main door already opened. “Oh I guess dad’s doing something on the barbecue after all,” he says, by way of explanation, “Can’t open the door with a plate of hot food.” 

“Sure,” Connor says, stepping into the house behind Jared. It’s...not what he expected. The living room that they’ve stepped into is bright and open and airy, a huge bright orange crushed velvet couch in the middle of the room. It’s colourful and stylish and eclectic in a way his mom’s taste has never been and some of Jared’s more interesting wardrobe choices are starting to make sense now. 

Connor takes off his boots while Jared wanders into the dining room through an open archway, and if he listens he can just make out the sound of Jared’s parents talking and the sounds of cutlery and plates being moved about. 

“I come bearing the guest of honour,” Jared calls and Connor reluctantly follows him into the dining room, which flows right into the kitchen. 

“Oh there he is!” Jared’s mom says excitedly, wiping her hands on a dish towel and coming over to hug Connor like he’s some sort of long-lost son and not a person she’s literally met once by accident. 

“We’re doing grilled veggie fajitas, I hope that sounds okay to you,” she continues, “And Daniel made jalapeno cheddar cornbread, which is just absolutely to die for, and now we have your wonderful salad!” 

Jared’s dad, Daniel presumably, waves from the kitchen, “Hey Connor, how’s it going?” 

“Oh, you know,” Connor says, even though he’s pretty sure that is mostly rhetorical. 

“I’m gonna go pop these on the grill,” he says, gesturing with a tray full of vegetables, “We’ve got one of those griddle sections, so handy.” 

“Dad, Connor doesn’t want to hear about your barbecue,” Jared says, the ‘you’re embarrassing me’left unspoken. 

“Do you want a drink, Connor?” Jared’s mom asks, taking the salad Connor brought from her son.

“I’m good, but thank you.” Connor says carefully. 

“I’m gonna go see if we can find Spaghetti,” Jared says. “Unless you need a hand?” 

“Please,” Jared’s mom says waving a hand, “Your dad did all the cooking, I think I can handle putting the dishes on the table by myself. You go find her highness.” 

“Cool,” Jared says, and then turns, ushering Connor out of the dining room. “She’s probably upstairs in my room.”

It’s a very good thing that Jared’s the type of person who had literally pulled out his phone about ten minutes after the first time they’d hooked up to show Connor photos of his cat, so despite her unusual culinary name he’d known Jared was referring to his cat and not the food. 

“You like cats, right?” Jared asks as a sort of afterthought. 

“Cats are cool,” Connor says, but wonders what exactly Jared would do if he’d not been on board for this plan. Probably more small talk with his weirdly enthusiastic parents. 

As if somehow reading his mind Jared adds, “And sorry about them, I’d say they’re not usually like that, but uh, lying is bad,” Jared says as they climb up the stairs to his room. “They’re just psyched cause I haven’t had a friend who wasn’t Evan over since I was like, twelve. Honestly the best part about us dating is that I didn’t have to suffer through a meet the parents situation.” 

“Uh huh,” Connor says.

“Anyways, this is it,” Jared says pushing open the door to his room, which looks bizarrely familiar despite the fact that Connor’s never been there before because he has the whole thing set up almost exactly like his dorm at school had been. 

Including the orange and teal plaid eyesore of a duvet that they had definitely fucked on. 

So. That was. Something. 

Though, thank god for small mercies that while the sight of the duvet of sin definitely stirs up some unpleasant reminders, he at least does not have a repeat of the Pavlovian incident from the Best Buy parking lot. 

“Ah ha!” Jared says, pulling out his desk chair and swooping his cat into his arms. Unlike the orange colour palette her name suggests, Spaghetti’s a mostly white cat with splotches of black and when Jared hoists her from where she had been very pleasantly sleeping she lets out an indigent little _mrep!?_ which Connor finds all too relatable. 

Jared sets her down on the bed and sits. “Maybe let her sniff your hand first? She’s usually pretty good with new people but she can be a bit shy.” 

Connor sits on the other end of the bed and holds out his hand for Spaghetti and is pleasantly surprised when almost immediately she starts butting her head against it and wrapping herself around his arm. 

“Awwww she likes you,” Jared says, “She can tell you’re a good dude.” 

Spaghetti flops onto her side, letting Connor rub her belly, eyes blinking slowly. 

“Hey, uh, just so you know, when my mom asked if you wanted a drink she didn’t mean like, a drink-drink, I told them you’re not into that stuff. I hope that’s okay? I didn’t say why or anything,” Jared says in a rush. 

“Oh, yeah, no. That’s fine,” Connor says, surprised by Jared’s bizarre show of thoughtfulness. 

“So, should I um, what should I call your parents?” Connor says, grasping for a subject change to distract himself. “Like Mr and Mrs. Kleinman or…?” 

“Oh god no,” Jared says with a snort. “I mean firstly they’re actually both doctors, so it’d be Dr. and Dr. Kleinman, or Dr. and Professor Kleinman if you wanna be slightly less confusing. But uh, don’t do that. You can just call them Bea and Daniel. They will insist.” 

“Sure,” Connor says, and makes a mental note to avoid that as much as possible. He’s not sure what it is exactly but he really hates having to call his friend’s parents by their first names. It just feels wrong. Especially now that he’s technically an adult or whatever and that’s apparently normal protocol. He’s still not over his beloved high school english teacher Mr. Bradshaw telling Connor he could call him Christopher now. 

A soft silence lulls between them, as they sit on the bed together, Spaghetti purring in the space between them, occasionally flipping herself over into more and more complicated positions. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Jared says, eyes down and away from Connor. “I know my parents are like, the most. And I know stuff has been weird. But it’s really nice that you’re here.” 

And for a second it’s so so easy to pretend that shit isn’t weird with them and he’s not literally sitting on a duvet that Connor _definitely_ got cum on at least once and now Jared’s dating his stepbrother and apparently not inviting him to his fucking birthday. 

Connor feels the anger ebb and recede once more, trying to focus on the splotchy patterns of black on Spaghetti’s face. He wants to just ask Jared _what_ his fucking deal is, but he’s really not sure he can do it without just completely blowing sky high, and if Jared already kind of secretly hates him all that is going to do it guarantee that he definitely hates him. 

Which means Evan will hate him. Which means Heidi will hate him. Which means his mom and Zoe will, well maybe not hate him, but they’ll be disappointed in him. To have come so far in the last few years and to have thrown so much away in one fell swoop. 

And that’s not even getting into his college friends, who Connor is not naive enough to think are more his friends than Jared’s. The best he could really hope for is split custody. 

So he grits his teeth and tells himself it won’t be that bad. That he can do a couple more hours pretending like everything is fine. Probably. 

He kind of wants to escape to the bathroom and go splash some water on his face, just give himself a few minutes to clear his head and brace for the rest of the evening. But he also doesn’t want to use that card too early in case he needs to use it later on without it seeming like he’s got some sort of bladder issue. So he sits with Jared for another ten minutes letting him drone on and on about some customer at work who had tried to return a gift card he’d been given for store credit (which honestly, yes was a pretty good story) until Jared’s dad calls them down for food. 

At the very least, Connor figures he will get a pretty good dinner out of it because it does smell pretty awesome as they make their way into the dining room, bowls of grilled vegetables and cheese and sauces and lettuce and sour cream artfully arranged along the runner, alongside the salad his mom made, a huge pile of corn tortillas, and the promised cornbread. Which Connor admits does smell fucking amazing. 

“What would you boys like to drink?” Jared’s mom asks going for the fridge. “Puppy I got you that raspberry iced tea you like.”

“Oh my god _mom_!” Jared hisses, going completely red in the face, “Don’t call me that, I’m not five.” 

“Alright fine, no iced tea,” She says closing the fridge. “Connor what would you like? We have iced tea, sparkling lemonade, pomegranate italian soda, hmm, well, water obviously, dairy milk, vanilla almond milk, and sprite.” 

“Whatever the pomegranate thing was, that sounds nice,” Connor says as Jared’s dad gently ushers him to his spot at the table. 

Dinner ends up being like a delicious and informal job interview, with Jared’s parents tag-teaming to ask him as many questions as possible about his life, his hobbies, his dreams and ambitions. They’re nice though, and it’s sort of interesting seeing the ways in which you can sort of reverse engineer their personalities from Jared’s. His mom’s a big talker like he is, a natural born storyteller with a wit that dances a little close to cutting a few times, her making a few well meaning jabs at Jared or her husband. His dad seems to be the root of a lot of his mannerisms, the way he gestures with his cutlery or the way he uses his eyebrows to convey emotion. 

It’s a bit easier to talk to them once Connor starts to notice these things, because it starts to feel less like talking to strangers, and more just like talking to Jared. Especially since Jared is literally right there adding interjections in between bites of cornbread. Which Connor does actually appreciate a lot when Jared’s dad finally gets around to asking “Now remind us, how did you two meet again?” and Jared jumps into the story midway to finish it with a heartwarming and platonic midnight trip to get bubble tea. Which they did totally do. Just not on that particular night. 

“Connor do you mind taking the leftover cornbread home for your moms? I know Heidi would just die of envy if she found out we made some for her and she didn’t get any,” Jared’s dad says standing with his dishes. 

“What!? You’re giving away _our_ precious cornbread to the Murphy-Hansens? — The Hansen-Murphys? — Unfair,” Jared protests, his mom laughing lightly and padding off into the living room. 

“Listen sweetie, I hate to break it to you, but Heidi did come first, so she gets first dibs on the cornbread,” his dad says, rummaging around in a cupboard until he emerges with a round blue tin, like the kind you get cookies or homemade fudge in from an older relative.

“Oh so it’s like an age before beauty thing, I get it,” Jared fires back, standing and collecting up a whole stack of cups and handfuls of cutlery. 

“Something like that,” his dad agrees with a laugh, using a cake lifter to transfer the bread into the container as Jared sneaks past him to start putting things in the dishwasher. 

“Thanks,” Connor says, accepting the tin, which up close he realizes is covered in tiny little dredals. 

“I’m pretty sure your mom gave us that tin so you’re welcome to keep it,” Jared’s dad says, and then softer and more serious. “And we really do want you to know, that Bea and I know what your mom has done for our Heidi, she is a very special lady.” 

“Yeah, she’s the best,” Connor agrees. 

Jared’s dad smiles at him and seems to resist the urge to ruffle Connor’s hair, giving him a light touch on the shoulder instead. “You hungry for dessert?” 

“Oh yes please,” Jared says, pulling the dishwasher door closed with a soft metallic thud. 

“I was asking our guest.” 

Connor opens and closes his mouth as Jared and his dad both turn to look at him, his hands wrapped gently around the tin. “I um…” He starts and swallows, he wants to take the easy out but it feels like such a dick move with how nice Jared and his parents have been to him all night, even if the only reason he wants to leave so early is because of Jared’s own dick move. 

Which frankly is just about all the justification Connor needs to say, “I actually, should probably get going? I just haven’t been home a lot this week and I said I wouldn’t stay out too late tonight.” 

“You’re leaving so soon?” Jared’s mom says reappearing in the archway of the dining room, “Well okay, if you’re sure. Maybe we’ll just have you over sometime soon for dessert. And invite your sister, we haven’t seen Zoe in ages.” 

“Totally,” Connor says, standing and clutching the tin to his chest. “I’ll just uh, call and see who can come get me.” 

“Dude, I can drive you home,” Jared says, wiping his hands on his stupid faux billabong boardshorts. “I actually have to get something I forgot at your place anyways.” 

“That’s perfect then,” Jared’s dad says smiling.

Connor exhales through his nose. “Sure, great, can I, uh, use your bathroom first?” 

“Upstairs, first door on the left,” Jared’s mom says. “Here, why don’t you just leave this right here,” she says, gesturing for him to put the tin on the coffee table. 

Connor takes the stairs two at a time, leaning heavily against the bathroom door and letting out a long exhale. He sits on the lip of the bathtub for a minute, pulling out his phone, and he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees a new text from Jackson. 

_Hope dinner’s going okay :)_

Connor rubs his eyes, and stares at the keyboard for a long minute, typing out a few different things, deleting them, and finally settling on: 

_its okay but weird???_

_Do you wanna talk about it ?_ Jackson texts back almost immediately. 

_maybe in a bit im literally hiding in the bathroom rn_

_Okay text me later ?_

_sure_ Connor says, feeling like somehow he’s said the wrong thing. He knows this is exactly the kind of thing he should probably be talking to his therapist about, all the stuff with Evan and Jared. And he sort of has, a little bit, she knows that Jared and Connor were friends, and she knows all about Connor’s blended family drama, but he still hasn’t been able to bring himself to tell anyone except Jackson about the hookups. 

And he’s sure it probably would seem, to an outside observer that he’s hung up and repressed about sex or something, and the idea of getting some sort of sex positivity talk from his therapist is honestly like the stuff of nightmares. And anyways, Connor’s pretty sure it’s not about the sex so much as the fact that Jared had seen him well, intimate, in a way that only one other person ever had. And it’s not like Connor had to worry about Thomas spilling his vulnerabilities to his stepbrother.

“Hey Connor?” Jared calls through the door. “I’m just gonna be waiting downstairs okay?” 

“Yeah sure,” Connor calls back, slipping his phone back into his pocket and standing to wash his hands at the sink, wiping his damp hands over his hair to help smooth down where it had frizzed in the humidity. 

Jared’s sitting on the arm of the couch when Connor comes back down into the living room, his parents snuggled up together like a pair of teenagers at a party and some of Jared’s cuddlier tendencies become clearer. 

“You good?” Jared says twirling his keys, and Connor nods. 

“Well,” Jared’s dad says standing, “We loved having you over, so sorry to cut it short this time, but we’d love to have you over again anytime.” 

Connor’s really not expecting Jared’s dad to hug him (paternal affection? What’s that?) but it’s actually kind of nice once he gets over the initial shock, Jared’s dad stepping back so his mom can also give him a hug, leaning up on her toes. 

“Alright, alright,” Jared says, trying too hard to sound casual, “Don’t forget your cornbread.” 

Connor nods, leaning over to haphazardly pull his boots back on, Jared holding open the front door for him, “What?” Jared says when Connor hesitates at the threshold, “Do you want me to hug you too?” 

Even though Connor _knows_ Jared is just joking and would absolutely give Connor a hug if he requested one, something about it makes something unlatch inside of him and Connor feels a hundred mean petty things swell on the tip of his tongue. He swallows them down hard and settles for pushing past Jared and stalking off towards the car, ignoring Jared’s inquiries about playlists when they’re safely buckled in. 

“I hope you had a nice time, I know my parents are a lot.”

“They’re nice,” Connor says stiffly, “You shouldn’t complain about them.” 

Jared makes a face, “I’m not complaining, I just know that they’ve got really big personalities, that doesn’t always mesh with everyone,” he says diplomatically and Connor rolls his eyes as he continues, “Anyways, it was really nice to hang with you, I feel like I haven’t seen you in a weirdly long time, I’m glad you and Spaghetti got along.” 

“Mhmm,” Connor says flatly. 

“Anyways, I have plans tomorrow night cause I’m doing some lowkey birthday stuff, but maybe we could hang on the weekend? Go see a dumb movie or something?” 

Connor scoffs and he can feel Jared take his eyes off the road to stare at him incredulously. 

Good, he thinks, let him be the one wondering what he did wrong for once. 

He’s not expecting Jared to signal off and pull into the parking lot of a big box store. 

“What are you doing?” Connor says. 

Jared puts the car in park. “I don’t wanna fight with you if I’m driving, it’s dangerous.” 

“We’re not fighting,” Connor says. 

“No, we’re not, you’re being all weird and passive aggressive and I have no fucking idea why, so if you’d like to share with the class so we can get whatever the fuck this is out into the open.” 

Connor scoffs again, “The fact that you don’t know— ” 

“ —Oh my god Connor, I am not a mind reader. I know whatever horrible awful thing I did that has made you avoid me for weeks is very obvious to you, but I really don't fucking know, so can you please just tell me?” 

Connor doesn’t say anything and Jared runs his tongue along the inside of his mouth the way he always does when he’s pissed and trying hard not to say something. “Fine,” Jared says, unclipping his seatbelt. “We’ll just sit here and take in the view until you wanna actually fucking talk to me.” 

“You’re the one who won’t fucking talk to _me_!” Connor finally snaps, “You acted like everything was all fucking fine between us for weeks.” 

“Because it was!” Jared says, “It was fine and then you just got all weird ever since you got your new boyfriend— ” 

“ —Do _not_ bring Jackson into this you absolute hypocrite— ” 

“ —What so it’s about Evan?— ” 

“ —No it’s about the fact that you keep trying to force us to be friends when you won’t even invite me to your fucking birthday!” Connor finally blurts, and dear god it sounds just as bad out loud as it did in his head, but fuck it. 

He hadn’t really known what to expect from confronting Jared, probably something defensive and snarky, but he’s not prepared for Jared to completely freeze like a bad video call and then ask with complete baffled sincerity, “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Connor’s wound up too tightly to consider this as anything but a bald-faced lie, despite Jared’s weird apparently sincerity. “I heard it from Drew Morris, so uh, yeah I know about your fucking party. He’s dating Jackson’s brother and asked me all about it, imagine my surprise.” 

“I haven’t…” Jared starts slowly, still sounding annoyed but mostly just confused. “I literally have not talked to Drew Morris in like a _year_ but yeah sure Connor we’re having a super secret party you’re not invited to.” 

Connor snorts, “So you’re calling him a liar?” 

“Connor, do you know what my big plans are for my birthday? You really wanna be a part of them? Well firstly I’m going to fucking work because my boss is an asshole who scheduled me in for a six hour shift even though it was one of the only days I requested off all summer. Then I to go to an optometrist appointment because I need to get my prescription updated, so uh, guess you could tag along to that if you _really_ wanted to. Oh and then Evan is coming over and we’re having Shabbos dinner with my parents and then, well we’re probably going to have sex. Sorry I didn’t think to invite you over for when your stepbrother— ” 

Jared abruptly cuts himself off, and thank god because Connor didn’t need to hear the end of that sentence on top of being sarcastically patronized to, he’d honestly been debating just getting out of the car and figuring out some other way to get home when he’d stopped. 

“Wait fuck, you said Drew Morris told you?” Jared says finally after a long pause. 

“Yeah…” Connor says cautiously. 

“Oh fuck,” Jared says, and drops his head dramatically into the steering wheel. “I know what happened,” he says, muffled. 

“I uh,” Connor says, the adrenaline that’d been coursing through him for the fight now cycling uselessly in this system at this turn of events. 

“Evan planned me a surprise party,” Jared says finally, pulling his head up out of the steering wheel. 

“What? Are you sure.” 

“Yeah I think so, I saw him talking to Drew Morris on facebook messenger the other day which I thought was kinda weird cause like, Evan wasn’t even really friends with him or anything. And he’s been kind of lowkey anxious this week and I’ve always really really wanted a surprise party and. Fuck.” Jared says, wiping at his face. 

“He still didn’t invite me…” Connor says slowly. 

“Dude you don’t have facebook and you’ve been avoiding him all week,” Jared says plainly. “Like, _maybe_ I’m wrong and Drew is a fucked up person lying for kicks, but I swear I’m really not having some secret party.” 

“Oh,” Connor says, opening and then shutting his mouth. 

“Fuck, oh poor Evan,” Jared says, and terrifyingly starts to tear up. “He probably worked so hard on this.” 

“I’m— I didn’t know,” Connor says stiffly. 

“Oh my god, it’s not your fault,” Jared says swiping at his eyes. “Fuck, you really thought I wouldn’t invite you to my party?” 

“I mean, yeah,” Connor says with a shrug, and Jared looks at him very softly for a long moment before leaning forward and pulling him into a hug. Connor feels the wave of his adrenaline finally crash and it’s sort of nice to sink into Jared. Familiar. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Jared says half into Connor’s shoulder. “God I must be a real fucking dick if you really thought I wasn’t going to invite you to my birthday party.” 

“I just thought I must have like...done something. Or you...I don’t know...you decided that you just didn’t really want me around anymore. Since you have like. Evan.” Connor says, practically forcing the words out, the slow unravelling of a tightly tied knot of emotions. 

Jared finally lets him go, leaning back into his seat, his glasses slightly too far tipped to one side. “Look I wouldn’t have introduced you to my cat, let alone my parents, if I didn’t actually like, really want to still be friends with you. Okay?” 

Connor exhales hard, “Okay.” 

“Good,” Jared says, and then after a long moment, “Emotional honesty is fucking hard. I feel like I just ran a mile.” 

“Yeah,” Connor agrees, exhaustion starting to tug at him like a boat moored to the shore. 

“I can’t believe I cried and you didn’t,” Jared says jokingly, wiping at his eyes again, “God I spend too much time with Evan.” 

“Yeah no duh,” Connor jokes, and it eases something deep in his chest when Jared snorts. 

“Do you wanna get Dairy Queen? I want Dairy Queen.” 

“What is it with you and Evan and Dairy Queen?” Connor asks as Jared reclips his seatbelt and turns the keys in the ignition. 

“There was one between our houses when we were kids, and it was just like, our special thing. It’s pretty cheap, especially if you split. Heidi said the first time she saw Evan smile after his dad left was when she took him for DQ. Also ice cream is delicious and proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy,” Jared says, doing a u-turn in the parking lot. 

“Actually, text Evan and see if he wants anything,” Jared says. “He’ll be pissed if I got DQ without him.” 

“Yeah sure,” Connor says pulling out his phone and shooting off a text to Evan, who sends back almost immediately his request for a cookie dough Blizzard. 

_hey if Zoes home ask if she wants anything,_ Connor sends as a follow up as they pull into the parking lot. 

_She’s not :/_ Evan sends back, and Connor frowns down at his phone as Jared pulls into the drive thru and orders. Even though Connor hadn’t necessarily wanted to come, he happily accepts the strawberry shake that Jared insisted on buying him. 

Evan’s Blizzard is sadly a little melty by the time they arrive back at Connor’s house, but Evan meets them out on the front porch, taking the cup from Jared happily. “Why do I only get this welcome committee when I bring you things?” Jared asks as Connor sneaks past them, happy to let them kiss on the front steps as he slips inside to drop off the tin of corn bread in the kitchen. 

“Hey sunshine!” Hi mom says smiling brightly at him from one of the stools at the kitchen island, she has pinterest up on her iPad and a whole sea of paint chips spread around her. “Did you have a nice time?” 

“Yeah it was good,” Connor says, and holds up the tin for her. “Jared’s dad wanted you and Heidi to have the leftover cornbread.” 

“Oh that’s so sweet,” she says, as Connor sets the tin on the counter, just as Evan and Jared troop into the house, Jared giving a quick wave to Connor’s mom before heading down into the basement, presumably to go retrieve whatever it is he forgot. 

“Um, hey Connor,” Evan says, voice pitched slightly low. “Can I talk to you for a second?” 

“Sure,” Connor says. 

And yeah, okay Jared is probably totally on base about this surprise party thing as Evan looks over his shoulder towards the basement stairs before quickly saying, “So uh it’s Jared’s birthday tomorrow, and totally cool if you have plans, but uh, if you’re not busy we’re going to do stuff around nine.” 

“Oh?” Connor says, trying to school his face into what he thinks is mild surprise. 

“Yeah, we’re going to go bowling, I invited a bunch of people from our school but like, Zoe is also going to be there and you know Alana Beck right? So it might be fun?” Evan says, “Just uh, it’s a surprise so um, just don’t say anything to Jared okay?” 

“Totally,” Connor says, a tiny bit of guilt seeping into his stomach at Evan’s totally earnest happiness. 

He doesn’t have long to dwell on that when Jared comes thudding up the stairs carrying a large orange industrial looking fan. 

“How the hell did you _forget_ that?” Connor blurts skeptically.

“I have a lot of things going on at any given time in my head,” Jared says, hefting the fan to the ground with a rattling hollow metallic clank. “Babe can you get the door for me?” 

“Got it,” Evan says as Jared hefts the fan back up.

“I’ll see you later Connor,” Jared says and gives him a little knowing smirk, Evan holding the door open for him, Jared leaning over for a goodbye kiss, managing somehow to use his knee to rebalance the fan up highly into his arms without pulling away. Which is honestly almost impressive. 

“Connor?” his mom asks pulling his focus from Evan and Jared, “What do you think about this colour for your bathroom?” 

She holds out a pale sage green paint swatch for him. “We’re thinking about redoing your bathroom now that the basement one has been handled. I was thinking green? Or maybe a nice slate grey?” She says, gesturing at another swatch. 

“Green is cool,” Connor says. “I guess whatever is cool with Zoe I’m good with.” 

His mom frowns, putting the paint chip down. “Do you know where she’s been going lately? I really try not to pry, I’ve made that mistake once with you kids and you’re both adults now, you deserve space and privacy, but I have to admit I’m starting to get a bit worried.” 

“I don’t, I’m sorry,” Connor says, and his mom leans up to pat him on the cheek. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she says completely unconvincingly, tucking all her interior design supplies into a little pile and setting them at the far end of the island. “Anyways, Heidi and I are going to watch a few episodes of our show and then turn in early I think.” 

“Okay,” Connor says, “I can stay up til Zoe gets home if you want?”

“Oh that’s sweet, but don’t worry about it sunshine,” she says standing. “It’s not even that late, I’m sure she’ll be home soon.” 

Connor frowns but doesn’t contradict and lets her pull his face down so she can kiss him on the forehead before disappearing upstairs. 

“Hey so,” Evan says, reappearing from down the hall, the sound of Jared’s car starting faintly in the driveway, “I can text you the details and stuff? I’m sorry I know this is kind of last minute, I made a facebook thing but like, you don’t have facebook so yeah. I’ve been trying to tell you but I know you’ve been really busy this week.” 

“Yeah, I’ll come, just text me? I guess I’ll get a ride from Zoe?” 

“Cool,” Evan says beaming. “I think it’ll actually be really fun. Also like let me know if you wanna be on a team with anyone specifically.” 

“Totally,” Connor says, another trickle of guilt at his thoughtfulness as Evan gives him one more smile and disappears downstairs to his room. 

It’s not even that late, but Connor feels fucking exhausted from dinner and the stupid fight with Jared and even though he was the one who offered to stay up and wait for Zoe, the allure of his bed is far too tempting and he ends up crashing half dressed without even brushing his teeth. 

He wakes up once at around midnight, bleary eyed and needing to pee, slipping into a pair of sweatpants and shuffling to the bathroom. He half entertains the idea of brushing his teeth but he’s so tired that all he wants to do is crash again and that’s the plan until he pushes back into the hallway and spots the lights on in Zoe’s room, the rest of the house dark and quiet. 

After a moment of hesitation he walks over and knocks softly. “Yeah?” Zoe says. 

“Hey,” Connor says, pushing the door open. “Just wanted to see if you’re okay.” 

“I’m fine…” Zoe says, she’s sitting on her bed in pajamas, her laptop in front of her crossed legs and she looks at him blankly for a long moment, “Did you need something or ?” 

“Yeah. Uh, can you give me a ride to Jared’s thing tomorrow?” Connor asks. 

“Sure,” Zoe says, “I have a thing after work so I’ll probably be home at maybe like, eight?” 

“Okay,” Connor says, and pushes down the urge to ask why she’s going to be home so late. 

“Alright, good night Connor,” Zoe says, pulling her computer back into her lap and making it abundantly clear that the conversation is over. 

“Night,” Connor says, taking a step into the hallway and closing the door behind him. 

Normally the weirdness of that encounter, on top of the yet again precariously shifting balance of him and Jared’s relationship would probably keep him up, but he’s so exhausted he’s out like a light as soon as he gets settled back into bed. 

He doesn’t even remember to plug his phone in, which means he wakes up a bit late, his usual alarm locked away in his now dead phone. “Ugh, fuck,” Connor says pushing himself up and scrubbing at his face. He doesn’t have work today so at least he’s not actually late for anything, but he’s been pretty serious about sticking to a regular sleep schedule ( _it’s the baseline treatment for mood disorders_ his brain chirps at him) and he’s annoyed that he’s thrown himself off, even if it’s only by half an hour. 

He finds his phone in the jeans he’d worn yesterday and plugs it into the charger by his bed as he heads to the bathroom for a shower. He can hear movement downstairs, and normally he gets to see Heidi, Zoe, and his mom for a few minutes before they’re out the door on weekdays, but with the shift in schedule he can tell they’re long gone by the time he reemerges from the shower. 

He’s debating between two nearly identical black shirts in the kind of move Jared definitely would have dragged him for if he was here when someone rings the doorbell, the sound of it echoing through the house. Connor hesitates for a long second, his natural aversion to strangers warring with his paranoia that it might be something important. The paranoia wins and Connor grabs the closest shirt, pulling it on as he makes his way into the hall and downstairs. 

He’s braced for it to be the mailman, or mormons, or maybe his mom, so he’s a bit surprised when he sees Jackson looking at him a little bit sheepishly. 

“Hey,” Connor says, surprise colouring his voice. 

“Hey,” Jackson says, “Sorry to uh, turn up unannounced, I just was a bit worried. You weren’t answering my texts?” 

“Your texts?” Connor asks, and then suddenly remembers, “Oh shit sorry, I didn’t text you back last night. Fuck. I’m so sorry, shit kinda hit the fan and then I didn’t plug my phone in and it died.” 

“It’s okay,” Jackson says. “Honestly I figured that was probably what happened but like, I figured I live right down the road so maybe I’d just come check?” 

“Totally,” Connor says nodding, and then suddenly realizing that he’s probably supposed to invite Jackson in asks, “Do you wanna come in? I was just gonna eat.” 

“I don’t wanna like, impose,” Jackson says suddenly sheepish. 

“I literally like, lived at your house last week, it’s chill,” Connor says, even though the thought of a boy he really likes in his house _is_ kind of terrifying. 

“C’mon,” Connor says, just on the edge of flirting. “I think we maybe have some leftover cornbread.” 

“Well in that case,” Jackson says, and steps inside, wiping his feet on the mat wholly unnecessarily and following Connor towards the kitchen. There’s two pieces of cornbread left and Connor plates them up and slides one towards Jackson, who leans against the island instead of sitting.

“So— ” 

“Wait, hold on one second,” Connor says, going over to the basement door and shouting down, “ _Evan!?_ ” When there’s no reply after a long few minutes he turns back to Jackson, “Sorry, just wanted to make sure we were alone.” 

“Totally. So uh, you said dinner was weird?” Jackson says. 

Connor lets out a low unamused laugh. “Yeah, uh, to not get too deep into it, dinner was weird, car ride home was um, shout-y. But things are okay now I think?” 

“Did you ask Jared about the party thing?” Jackson asks around a bite of cornbread. 

Connor nods. “Yeah.” 

“Putting everything out in the open helps, yeah?” Jackson says in the worlds sweetest ‘I told you so’ that Connor’s ever heard. 

“Uh, I mean, kind of. But I also spoiled his surprise party for him.” 

“Oh shit,” Jackson says. 

“He was mostly chill about it, I just feel bad for ruining all of Evan’s planning.” 

“Yeah,” Jackson says thoughtfully as he chews. “I’m glad things are better though.” 

“Yeah me too,” Connor says with a small smile as Jackson slides his now empty plate towards him. 

“Not to eat and run,” Jackson says. “But I should probably get out of your hair, now that I know you’re okay.” 

“Oh,” Connor says, “I mean, you don’t have to. I don’t have work so if you wanted to like, hang out or whatever.” 

“I’d love to honestly,” Jackson says, “but we have this big project next week at work and it’s all hands on deck.” 

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, totally,” Connor says, and god he hopes that feigned nonchalance isn’t as completely obvious to Jackson as it is to him. 

“I hope you have fun at your party,” Jackson says, “And hey maybe we can do something this weekend? I don’t wanna like, freak you out or anything this is something we can wait on, but my dad is really excited to meet you, so maybe sometime soon?” 

“Sure,” Connor says, even as his stomach ties itself into the sloppy shoelace bow of a first grader. Something about people who have really positive relationships with their dads intimidates the crap out of him. Which in hindsight does explain some stuff about him and Jared, even though Jared will insist he and his dad had a rocky few years, mostly due to a lot of teen angst on Jared’s end. 

“For real though,” Jackson says, “No pressure. He’s excited to meet you now and he’ll be excited to meet you in a few months.” 

“You plan on keeping me around that long?” Connor says. 

“Yeah, I am,” Jackson says rubbing at the back of his neck bashfully, “I do have to go though.” 

“Sure,” Connor says, walking him to the front door. “I’ll text you.” 

“Cool,” Jackson says, stepping down onto the front porch, and then turning back through the open door and kissing Connor on the cheek, “See you around.” 

It’s honestly a miracle that Connor doesn’t go fainting straight backwards onto the floor as he gently closes the door behind a very pleased-looking Jackson. 

He’s floating on that all day, so he almost doesn’t even get worked up when it’s 8:30 pm and Zoe still isn’t back from wherever she’s been and isn’t answering her phone. Almost. He decides to just go out and wait for her on the porch because waiting inside is making him antsy. 

“Hey Zo,” Connor says, leaving a message on her voicemail for the third time, “A surprise party doesn’t really work if you show up after the surprise part. Can you just— okay nevermind you just pulled up.” He’s already half down the steps as he hangs up. 

“Sorry,” Zoe says, as Connor climbs in and she’s reversing out of the driveway before he even gets his seatbelt on. “Lost track of time.” 

“Alright,” Connor says skeptically. 

“I don’t need the tone, thanks, I already said I was sorry,” Zoe says. 

“Alright, alright, look I get it it’s not my business. But we’re not stupid, we all know something’s up— I’m not asking you to tell me, I’m just saying, we all know you’re being weird.” 

Zoe rolls her eyes and doesn’t say anything, keeping her eyes on the road like good driving is the passive aggressive thing that will really stick it to Connor, turning up the stupid satellite radio indie station she’s always listening to. And even if Zoe’s pissed with him, he does feel better about at the very least letting her know that they’re well aware of how weird she’s been acting. If nothing else he hopes maybe it will encourage her to actually, like, talk to someone about it, even though he knows he’s probably about her last choice on that front. 

They do manage to make it to the bowling place before nine and Conor recognizes Alana’s car in the parking lot, so even if Zoe’s grumpy with him for the rest of the night he’ll have her to hang out with. It turns out though, despite Zoe’s moodiness she seems significantly more cheerful as they get their shoes and make their way over to the lanes reserved for the party. 

Alana hops out of her seat to come give Connor a hug, and enthusiastically introduces him and Zoe to her girlfriend Emily, who is wearing a snapback, neon orange sneakers, and a tank top that says _Whatever Bro_ and is absolutely not at all what Connor had imagined when Alana had told him about her girlfriend. She’s nice enough though, and Connor can tell already that they sort of balance out each other’s energies as Alana fills him in excitedly about how Evan managed to even get some of Jared’s old camp friends from out of state to come. 

“Apparently one of them came from New Jersey, isn’t that wild?” Alana says cheerfully sipping her Pepsi straight from the cup in what Connor had to assume was a conscious rejection of plastic straws. 

“Totally,” Connor says, craning over his shoulder to one of the other tables where two fairly average looking dudes and one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen in person are chatting happily. One of the guys looks over, his expression shifting as he looks over at them, “Oh my god, hi Zoe!?” 

“ _Heeeey_ ,” Zoe says in a weird voice as the guy comes over and she stands to accept his hug. 

“Oh my god how do you know Jared?” The guys says, sweeping his dark hair out of his eyes. 

“Um, he’s dating my stepbrother,” Zoe says kind of stiffly, one hand firmly on the back of her chair. 

“Oh dude! No way! That’s crazy. Small fucking world. Hey do you wanna join our team? We’re only three.” 

“Uhhh sure,” Zoe says after a moment of hesitation. “Why not.” 

Connor frowns, not sure what to make of any of that as Zoe goes over to sit at the other table. “Hey don’t worry,” Alana says cheerfully, “Drew and his boyfriend are on our team, we totally have enough people. Evan asked me to do all the lane arrangements and they requested to be on your team!” 

Connor is so flattered by that that he’s distracted from whatever the fuck just happened with Zoe by Alana checking her phone and waving at everyone, “Okay, okay, they’re coming!” 

Thankfully no one asks him to like, duck under a table or anything, everyone just kind of clustering so Jared won’t be able to immediately see them from the front door. Connor ends up beside Ivan who pokes him excitedly by way of greeting as they wait for Jared and Evan to round the corner. 

Honestly it’s probably for the best that Jared kind of knew what was happening because carrying your own personal fourteen pound bowling ball that you own because you’re a weird bowling nerd and a large group of people yelling _HAPPY BIRTHDAY!_ at you do not mix well with surprise. Though the look on Jared’s face is actually pretty convincing and Evan thankfully has the good sense to grab the ball bag from Jared as he screeches in genuine surprise as his three friends go rushing towards him into one giant group hug. 

Despite Zoe ditching them, Connor’s actually pretty hype about his team, especially because they all agree to put the bumpers up. Connor hasn’t bowled since middle school and he’d rather not look super terrible at it in front of his coworker and his sort-of-boyfriend’s brother. 

One lane over he can hear Jared loudly and dramatically recounting the Best Buy shirt incident much to Evan’s protestations, “Awww honey, you are the Best Bi though, I can see why it was confusing.” 

At their lane Connor is up first and manages to get all but one of the pins on his first try and digs out his wallet as Alana sets up for her first turn, “I’m going to go grab some nachos, be right back,” Connor says to the muttered approval of the rest of his group. 

Connor’s waiting for his order, nachos and a sprite, when Jared makes his way over to the concessions bar, staring up at the menu board very seriously for a long second before ordering an order of chili cheese fries. Jared normally keeps fairly strict kosher, but he’s always a bit more lax about it for parties and, more notoriously when he’s drunk. Which is how they’d discovered that Jared is apparently allergic to shellfish when he’d eaten some of Connor’s shrimp pad thai after they’d crashed a party of one of Thomas’ friends that they definitely weren’t invited to. 

It had been scary at the time, Connor had been entirely sober but super tired, calling the campus EMTs while Jared gasped for air on the floor of his dorm. They’d laughed about it later, but Connor had never understood Zoe more than he had in those terrifying few minutes, staring down someone he cared about fighting to keep breathing, not sure if he was going to make it. 

“Hey,” Jared says, snapping Connor out of his thoughts. “I’m really glad you’re here.” 

“Yeah,” Connor says, “Me too. I’m sorry it wasn’t much of a surprise though.” 

“I mean,” Jared says, tilting his head side to side, “I had _no_ idea my Tavor camp crew was going to be here. I cannot believe Evan pulled that off.” He smiles off into the distance, “That’s Evan though, everytime I think I have shit figured out...he still finds a way to surprise me. I think that’s how I knew he was the one, you know?” 

Connor nods, even though he doesn’t really know, the thing between him and Jackson still too tentative to be called love, even if he hopes it might be. He watches Jared accept his chili fries, making his way back to Evan who cups his hands around Jared’s face for a brief moment, saying something to Jared that Connor’s too far away to hear, Jared nodding and beaming at him, the two of them stupidly, incandescently happy.

And Connor decides then. Even if it’s wrong, Evan can never know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to evol_love, euphrasiefauchelevent, and youshallnotfinditso for your invaluable help (and Meg especially for letting me steal the thing about Jackson loving She's All That). Part V will be up as soon as possible.


	5. Early August.

**Early August.**

After all the drama of the first two weeks of July, the rest of the month is fairly uneventful, slipping quietly and comfortably into August. Zoe’s still acting a bit...off, but she’s stopped disappearing so much and seems to be in a generally better mood. Connor’s caught her singing quietly under her breath a handful of time, which is normally a sign of her being in better spirits. 

Stuff with Jared and Evan is….well, it’s still a bit weird and not quite comfortable, like a pair of shoes that aren’t broken in all the way. But at the very least Connor doesn’t get metaphorical blisters from spending time with them anymore, though he’s still holding off on doing some sort of double-date with him and Jackson. Even though they’re quote unquote officially dating (it’s on facebook and everything, despite Connor’s lack of a profile). 

“It’ll be fuuuuuun.,” Jared whines from where his head is in Evan’s lap on the shitty old couch in the basement. Connor doesn’t generally spend a lot of time in the basement, partially because it’s where Evan’s room is, and partially because it’s just kind of dim and not the most appealing despite his mom’s interior design ambitions, but he’s waiting for a load of laundry to be done and he doesn’t mind chilling with Jared and Evan, even if Jared is being insistent about his double-date idea. 

“We could go bowling!” Jared says. 

“No,” Connor and Evan both say in perfectly chilling deadpan unison which makes Jared let out a horrified laugh. 

“Oh my god don’t do that, it’s _terrifying_ ,” Jared says. “I get the message, no bowling. What about mini-golf?” 

“Not going to happen,” Connor says, idly checking his messages. 

_Hey ! we still on for tonight !? :D_ Jackson asks. Connor’s still not over the completely adorable way he texts and he grins to himself as he types out a quick affirmative as Jared continues. 

“We could go skating? He’d like that right? He’s a jock.” 

“Dude,” Connor says huffily. 

“Jare,” Evan says gently. “C’mon, don’t bug him about it.” 

“I wanna meet Jackson! Is that a crime!” 

“You already met him,” Connor says, and it was true, the other week he’d gotten the heart stopping text that Jackson had bumped into Jared at Best Buy while helping Ivan pick out a new laptop. 

_He’s charming, I can see the appeal_ , Jackson had followed up his initial text with, and Connor had stressed about the thing until he’d been able to confirm that Jared hadn’t actually said anything weird to his newly acquired boyfriend. 

“It’s not the same though, I was at work, I had to use my customer service voice and everything. That’s not the real me,” Jared says, flicking a hand uselessly in the air. 

“Thank god,” Evan says wryly under his breath, shushing him placatingly when Jared scoffs offendedly, “No shush, you’re perfect,” Evan says leaning over to kiss Jared on the top of the head. 

Evan actually had met Jackson too, since his mom started insisting that they meet him just days after he’d finally met Jackson’s dad, who was like the world’s weirdest combination of Connor’s own mom and like, Batman. 

(And no, it wasn’t just because he’s a rich dude with the last name Wayne, and more to do with the fact that he’s proficient in like seven different styles of martial arts. Also he sort of very, very vaguely looks like Christian Bale. But despite the aforementioned martial arts background Jackson’s dad is a very chill guy who took to Connor almost immediately. Which was nice and extremely relieving.) 

His mom’s desire to meet Jackson had also been significantly exacerbated by her realization that his dad was in her Sunday morning hot yoga class, and Connor had finally relented in having Jackson over for dinner as long as no one made a big deal about it. Which was probably the wrong thing to tell an anxious overthinker like Evan, who had spent most of dinner aggressively trying not to make eye contact with Jackson. 

“Alright, alright, no double date,” Jared says melodramatically in response to something Evan says to him softly that Connor doesn’t catch. But despite the melodrama, Connor knows from his tone that he is legitimately going to drop it. 

“Oh hey babe,” Jared says. “You gotta call the dentist, you wanted me to remind you.” 

Evan groans, “Ughhhhhh.” 

“I know babycakes,” Jared says and reaches up blindly to pat Evan on the face, “Life is rough.” 

“Yes hello, Mr. Dentist, please cut my teeth out of my face thanks,” Evan says, shoving Jared off his lap so he can stand.

“That’s the spirit!” Jared says and Evan lazily flips him off as he grabs his phone off the table and goes into his room for some privacy. 

“And you wonder why I don’t want to bring Jackson around,” Connor says drily. 

“Hurtful!” Jared says, repositioning himself so he can actually look at Connor. “Hey, it’s honestly cool if you’re not ready for like, double date with the stepbrother,, but it’s not because...it’s not because of me right?” 

“What?” Connor asks genuinely thrown. 

“You know, because…” Jared drifts off, tilting his head and poking his tongue into the side of his cheek. 

“Oh god,” Connor says, “No, literally not at all. Not to be cliche, but it’s genuinely not you it’s me, I’m just, you know _—_ ” 

“Private, yeah, I’m very keenly aware,” Jared says with an eye roll. And private is not exactly the word Connor would have used, maybe something more like, ‘I’m still not totally sure how I tricked this guy into being my boyfriend so throwing an ex-fuck buddy into the mix seems like a risky move at the moment.’ But it’s not like Jared even knows that he’s told Jackson, and besides, despite the familial introductions it was nice that most of their relationship was still something just for them. At least for a little while. 

“Oh hey by the way,” Jared adds, voice slipping into the kind of overly sincere territory Connor’s come to associate with Serious Talks, “We should probably, uh, figure out when and how we want to talk to Evan? You know, given that— ” 

He cuts off abruptly at the sound of Evan’s bedroom door opening, Evan appearing in the hallway looking in a little dazed. 

“Hey, how’d it go?” Jared asks, as Evan puts his phone on the little coffee table and then dramatically collapses onto the couch into his boyfriend’s waiting arms in a move that is so purely Kleinman that Connor can’t help but laugh. “That wonderful, huh?” 

“I cut off the receptionist like four times when she was trying to tell me about preparing for surgery, she probably thinks I’m such an asshole,” Evan says hiding his face in Jared’s neck unhappily while Jared pats his shoulder placatingly. Connor wonders if part of this is due to his mom being a receptionist at an orthodontist’s office who has a tale or two about being mistreated by patients, or if it’s just a more general anxiety thing. 

“There there,” Jared says, “I’m sure she’ll forget all about it when you make a total fool of yourself when you’re doped up on anesthetic.” 

“Do. Not.” Evan says, sitting up and shoving at Jared,“Oh my god you’re _horrible_ why would you say that!” 

“Don’t even listen to him,” Connor says, “He hasn’t even had his wisdom teeth out.” 

“It’s because I don’t have any because I was already too wise,” Jared says sagely. 

“Yeah sure, that’s why,” Connor says sarcastically. “Seriously Ev, Zoe and I both got ours out in high school. It’s really not that bad.” 

Evan looks up at him suddenly, head cocked and an unreadable expression on his face. 

“What?” Connor asks, wondering if he’s got some shit on his face. 

“Nothing just, uh, I’ve never heard you call me Ev before,” Evan says slowly, flushing. 

“Oh. Sorry,” Connor says, replaying what he’d just said in his head. 

“No! It’s totally fine!” Evan says enthusiastically, “It’s um….it’s nice.” 

“Okay, cool,” Connor says slowly, and thanks his lucky stars when the dryer buzzes loudly and he’s able to slip off to the laundry room, shoving all his warm clothes into his hamper. 

When he comes back out into the rec room Evan’s disappeared again and Jared looks up from his phone and grins at him. “Very cute brotherly bonding, Con.” 

“If my hands were empty I want you to know I’d be flipping you off,” Connor says disinterestedly, the sound of Jared’s laughter following him up the stairs. 

Really what he’d like to say is that only people who are currently sleeping with him get to call him Con, but that seems like a dangerous thing to say in possible earshot of Evan. Also, Jackson has started calling him Con and they haven’t technically, uh, done much yet. There’s been a lot of making out and some handsy action, which has been very nice, but despite the fact that Connor’s heading out of state in the next month there hasn’t been that same frantic tumble that marked his relationships with Jared or Thomas. 

It’s nice actually, having the breathing room, feeling like they don’t have to rush because it doesn’t feel like he’s auditioning for his own relationship. Trying to put it all on the table to impress someone as quickly as possible. 

Zoe’s coming down as Connor’s going up the stairs, and she presses herself against the wall so he can get by with the laundry basket, her hair damp from the shower and hanging in twin braids on either side of her head. 

“You look like Wendy,” Connor says teasingly as he passes. 

“Mmmmm, I want a frosty,” Zoe says, taking the stairs at a little hopping gallop. 

Connor snorts and makes it the rest of the way upstairs, dumping his clothes onto his vaguely made bed. It’s only after he’s done putting stuff away, folding the jeans haphazardly and hanging up his shirts, that he realizes he’s left his phone downstairs. 

He can hear Jared and Evan talking softly from the top of the stairs, but he’s a few steps down before his brain catches up with his ears and he realizes Evan is crying, his breath coming in painful gulps between muffled sobs. 

“Hey, oh sweetie, hey,” Jared says impossibly softly, “It’s all gonna be fine.” 

“You don’t know that,” Evan manages between ragged sobs. 

“Evan, hey, hey, I’ll be right there the whole time,” Jared says, “Oh baby, it’s okay.” 

Evan sobs out something else that Connor can’t make out from where he’s frozen two steps from the top of the stairs. He doesn’t want to walk in on Evan sobbing, but he really does need his phone so very carefully he backs up to the top of the steps, counts to sixty in his head and then calls down, “ _Hey! Did I leave my phone down there!?_ ” 

There’s some light shuffling, which under different circumstances Connor would presume was them getting themselves in order from some R-rated shenanigans and he waits patiently until Jared calls up, “ _Yeah, it’s down here, one second, I got it_.” 

Connor steps back out of the doorway so Jared has room to come thumping up the stairs phone in hand. 

“Hey thanks,” he says, taking his phone from Jared and slipping it into his back pocket. 

“Yeah no worries,” Jared says and then calls down, “ _Babe, I’m just gonna go get the car ready._ ”

“ _Okay_ ,” Evan calls in a voice that Connor wouldn’t even have noticed was wobbly if he hadn’t been listening for it. 

“I’ll see you later,” Jared says cheerfully, his car keys jangling in his hand. 

“Yeah,” Connor says, with a little wave as Jared makes his way around the corner and towards the front door out of Connor’s eyeline. 

Evan troops upstairs a few minutes later, looking a little bit red and puffy but otherwise fairly put together for someone who was just sobbing a few minutes ago. Connor looks up from where he’s stationed himself by the kitchen island, fiddling with some of the paint chips his mom had left out. 

Connor chews on his lip, considering for a long second while Evan gives himself a once over in the reflection of the microwave, grabbing his water bottle out of the fridge. Finally he makes up his mind, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. “Oh, hey, I meant to tell you earlier, I have Monday off work if you and Jared need, like, an extra person to help when you’re all loopy.” 

“Oh!” Evan says, startled. “Oh, um, are you sure?” 

Connor shrugs, “Yeah sure, I’m not doing anything.”

It’s technically a lie, he’s supposed to work but he’s like 90% sure he can get Alana to trade with him, especially because he knows she’s always trying to get Tuesdays free because that’s her girlfriend’s day off. 

“Yeah, no, that sounds like a good idea maybe? I mean I’ve never done it before, but I’m sure Jared would appreciate having a hand?” Evan says wiping his hands on his Pottery Barn apron nervously. 

“Yeah just, like, text me or whatever. Or just tell me, it’s not like I never see you.” 

“Totally,” Evan says nodding. “I’ll uh, see you later.” 

“Cool, have a good shift,” Connor says. 

“Yeah, have fun on your date,” Evan says, and there’s a weird lingering pause before he turns and heads down the hall to the door. 

Connor leans over the island to catch sight of the front door closing behind Evan and then immediately texts Alana, who responds cheerfully within ten minutes that she’d _love_ to switch shifts with him. She also sends half a dozen articles about wisdom teeth extraction which she swears are _so_ helpful. 

Connor huffs a laugh to himself and heads back upstairs to finish getting ready for this Murder Mystery Dinner Theatre thing that Jackson’s best friend Jason’s in. Connor actually really likes Jason, but he does really wish that Jackson’s best friend could have had a less confusing name. Though apparently their friendship had been mostly kick-started by people constantly confusing them for each other. Which honestly, Connor could understand given that they were both tall dark-haired gay guys who played sports. 

He’s not entirely sure what to expect so he errs a bit on the side of formal in getting dressed, putting his hair up, taking it down, and finally putting it up again just as he gets the text from Jackson that he’s outside. 

Jackson’s leaning out the driver’s side window when Connor comes down the front steps, and he stops to give him a hello kiss on his way around to the passenger side, Jackson leaning back over for a second kiss when Connor climbs in. 

“Hey,” Connor says softly as Jackson pulls back slowly. 

“Hey,” Jackson echoes grinning hard at him, eye crinkling. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, I’m just appreciating,” Jackson says lightly, reaching up to adjust the rearview mirror and checking over his shoulder before he pulls out of the driveway. 

Connor can feel himself flush and he can’t even hide behind his hair, pretending instead to be very interested in something outside the window for a long few minutes until Jackson taps him lightly on the arm at an intersection and hands Connor his phone. 

Connor takes the hint and pulls up Spotify, smiling hard at the playlist called _Songs Connor Told Me Were Good_ but putting on _Chill Sad Songs_ instead. 

“So what is this thing exactly?” Connor asks, Emily Haines crooning in the background. 

“It’s like you eat dinner with all the characters and then someone gets murdered and you get to go all through the house to see different scenes,” Jackson says. “Also apparently Jason has a fake mustache, I’m very excited.” 

Connor laughs. “Definitely worth the price of admission.” 

“I ordered you a vegetarian meal, I hope that’s okay. I know you and meat have a complicated relationship.” 

“Yeah, no that’s great, thanks,” Connor says, and Jackson takes his eyes off the road for a second to grin at him, pleased as punch as Connor’s mom would say. 

When Connor had heard dinner theatre he’d been imagining some sad community hall set-up with tables, so he’s surprised when Jackson pulls up alongside a gorgeous gated mansion. He’s glad he erred on the side of formal as they enter into a foyer with a crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, and stand in line for the check-in table. 

“Two under Wayne,” the check-in lady says brightly, and Connor’s heart presses hard against his ribcage, despite his own internal scolding. It really does not help when Jackson takes his hand and they step through together into the long dining room. Jason’s boyfriend is chatting farther down the table with some people, but he waves when he spots them, casual and friendly. 

There’s a little sign on the table beside a little dish of button badges, asking them to put one on to show their interest in audience interaction, red for none, yellow for indirect interaction, and green for direct interaction. Connor grabs a red almost immediately but Jackson’s hand hovers for a long moment before finally settling on yellow. 

“You can do green if you want,” Connor says tentatively. 

Jackson shrugs. “I think if you’re green sometimes the actors make you do stuff and I’m not sure I’m totally up for that.” 

Connor’s not totally convinced, but right afterwards the doors at the end of the dining room are thrown open and the lights dim as all the actors filter in followed by servers with plates. The vegetarian option turns out to be a risotto and Connor happily shares some with Jackson who’s disappointed by the sad looking chicken kiev he’d ordered. 

Overall the whole thing manages to be a lot more fun than Connor had expected. They split them off into groups and take them on a staggered tour throughout the house, which is ostentatious but completely gorgeous. As promised Jason does have a fake mustache and spends a good chunk of his scene openly flirting with his boyfriend who seems incredibly into it. 

There’s one kind of awful moment with a dead body in a bathtub and Connor freezes up

for a second, taking in a harsh breath, a cold spike of adrenaline running through him, but Jackson just squeezes his hand tightly and gently leads him out into the hall while the scene in the bathroom continues. 

“Do you want to go?” Jackson says softly while one of the actors carries on loudly in the bathroom. 

Connor shakes his head, it was more the shock of it, knocking him off axis, than anything else, and he just squeezes Jackson’s hand and shakes his head. 

The show ends with Jason rather impressively duelling the plucky heiress down the staircase before she bests him and he melodramatically faints. It’s silly and over the top and not exactly a detective story to wow the ages, but it’s fun and Connor finds himself grinning despite himself as the actors take their bow. 

Connor really expects Jackson to want to stick around to talk to Jason, but he’s happy to leave with the rest of the audience. Not that Connor minds, he’s happy not to have to stand around with a bunch of overzealous friends and family, he’s just a bit surprised. 

“I’m okay if you want to say hi,” Connor says, worrying at one of his rings. Once things had started turning more serious with Jackson they’d sat down and had An Abridged History of My Mental Health talk, and while Connor was really glad they had, it was sort of impossible not to notice Jackson noticing all his own triggers. 

“Nah, that’s fine, I’m going to see Jason tomorrow at the gym. Unless you really want to say hi?” Jackson says, hesitating in the foyer. 

“I mean he’s your friend, I just didn’t want you to think I, like, wasn’t okay?” Connor says slowly, trying to convey it without having to say it. 

The realization blooms over Jackson’s face spreading down from his eyes. “ _Oh_. No, literally not that at all. I just, um, well….” 

“What?” Connor asks skeptically. 

“So um, Luke texted the bro chat to say that he got asked to cover the closing shift last minute, and um Ivan’s at some party with Drew and my dad is out of town and Clark has some book launch for a prof he’s helping with so, um, the house is empty?” 

Oh. _Oh_. 

“Not that like, we don’t have to— no pressure of course, I just thought, like, it might be nice? To have the house to ourselves?” Jackson says quickly. 

Connor had learned pretty quickly that despite being pretty large, Jackson’s house was also weirdly echoey with its large rooms and high ceilings. Also while Clark was down in the basement, Luke, Ivan, and Jackson’s rooms were all off of one hall. More than once they’d been on the way upstairs only to overhear a little too much from Ivan and Drew or Luke and whoever. Theoretically they could do stuff at Connor’s place, especially given that Zoe isn’t home during the day, but bringing Jackson home means having to run the gauntlet of his mom and Heidi who would love nothing more than to plant him in the living room with a snack and quiz him on his life for hours on end. 

“Yeah, that would. Okay.” Connor says, and Jackson grin at him a little punchdrunk. 

“Cool.” 

“Very cool,” Connor agrees.

“Ice cold,” Jackson says and it would be so fucking dorky if it was anyone else, but somehow in Jackson’s mouth it’s absolutely adorable, and Connor just melts into him when Jackson pulls him by the belt loops and they spend a long few minutes making out against the side of the car. 

Jackson is tall, but Connor’s still taller and there’s something so hot about Jackson pulling him down by the back of the neck, making sure Connor knows who’s in charge of the kiss. The way he slows it down when Connor gets wound up, takes his time. It’s so fucking hot and Connor feels like he might swoon right over when Jackson looks up at him through his eyelashes and says “My place?” 

Connor nods, and Jackson laughs, giving him a sweet kiss on the side of his face, lower than his cheek but not quite on the mouth, before crossing around to the driver’s side. Connor gives him second to catch his breath before climbing back into the car and texting his mom to let her know he’s staying over at Jackson’s house. Jackson puts on his _Move, I’m Gay <3 _playlist and the two of them end up scream-singing along to LoveGame all the way down the interstate. 

“I guess working right below a nightclub has its perks,” Jackson says, his voice a tiny bit raspy and Connor rolls his eyes affectionately. 

“I’m not listening to, like, a constant loop of _The Smiths_ , I know top 40,” Connor says. 

Jackson laughs and just cranks the volume again as they pull off the highway. 

It’s not super late but their street is quiet and dark as they pull up in front of Jackson’s house, which is maybe why it’s so noticeable that a significant number of the lights on the main floor are on. 

“That fuck?” Jackson says as they pull up and park. 

“I thought you said no one was home?” Connor says, his voice pitched low for no real reason other than it suddenly feels very sneaky. 

“I did…” Jackson frowns, pulling his keys out of the ignition. “Maybe Luke just left shit on?” 

Connor frowns, but half jogs to catch up to Jackson, taking his hand and twining their fingers together, Jackson giving him another sweet little smile as he leans up for a kiss at the front door, short and sweet. And then longer and dirtier, Connor gripping one hand on Jackson’s back, the other on his hip, the dress shirt he’s wearing starting to slip up and Jackson shivers under his hands as he kisses back even harder. His hands reaches up into Connor’s hair and he can feel his bun start to slide out and he lets out a pitiful little involuntarily whimper and—

The door swings open. 

“Oh how the turn tables,” Ivan says gleefully and Connor only has a split second to be embarrassed before Jackson goes tackling his brother through the entryway. 

Connor freezes, hands held uselessly in front of him while Jackson struggles Ivan into a headlock. “Jackie, getoff!” Ivan huffs. “C’mon, stop.” 

Jackson finally relents, shoving his brother away from him, annoyed. 

“You’re such a little shit,” he says, as he stands, brushing himself off. 

“Oh what, for coming home to get some cheeky sneaky time with my boyfriend? Hypocrite.” 

“Is that Jackson!?” Clark calls from inside the house, and Jackson groans, throwing a little apologetic glance over his shoulder at Connor as he steps over Ivan who is still dramatically draped on the floor of the foyer. 

“Hey handsome,” Ivan says up at him. “Come here often?”

Connor scoffs, stepping around Ivan and following Jackson into the main living room.

“Drew, your boyfriend's hitting on me,” Connor says, catching sight of him sitting on the sectional with Clark and his girlfriend Elle.

“Good, you keep him,” Drew says.

“So,” Clark says. “I guess great minds think alike, huh?”

“Yeah, or fools seldom differ,” Ivan says, having pulled himself off the floor and joined them.

“That's literally just a self burn, bro,” Jackson says.

“Worth it to take you two down with me,” Ivan says with a shrug, flopping onto the sectional.

Connor hovers awkwardly, arms crossed over his chest until Jackson sits on the loveseat, gently patting the spot beside him. Connor sits and reaches up to fix his bun which has all but come undone, hanging precariously on the side of his head.

“So,” Elle says, clapping her hands in a move that Connor cannot help but associate with his stepmom, “Who's for a game?”

Connor figures they'll maybe play a round or two before sneaking upstairs when Clark pulls out Cards Against Humanity (and not a crappy print-at-home copy like Jared had at the dorms, but an actual proper copy), but somehow it's two in the morning and Connor's never laughed so hard in his life than he is at the _Bees?_ card. They're all kind of delirious and Jackson has melted so far into Connor's side his head is almost in his lap and Elle is sitting on the floor with her head leaned up against Connor's knee. Clark had left fifteen minutes ago to go get them an order of feta cheese bread with Ivan tagging along to carry all the drinks and things and the hysteria dies down a bit while they stuff themselves full of carbs.

Luke comes home in the middle of carbfest, looking shocked at them all still up and sitting in the living room, but gladly joins them, waxing poetical about some new girl at work that he thinks it really cute but one hundred percent won't hit on because that would be weird and unprofessional and he doesn't want to put her in a weird situation.

“Just buy her the totally platonic present of a huge bottle of Southern Comfort,” Clark says knowingly, ducking when his girlfriend flings a pillow at his head.

“I never said it wasn't platonic, I only said it didn't _work_ in making me feel anything but platonic,” Elle scolds her boyfriend, stacking her little pile of cards together, and starting to dramatically recount The Tale of The Guy At Her Job Who Was In Love With Her. 

It seems impossible that Connor would start drifting off with all the noise and chatter, but he can't help giving into the weight of sleep, Jackson shaking him gently to bring him back to the surface of consciousness.

“Hey, c'mon sweetie, let’s go to bed,” Jackson says, and Connor manages to stagger his way upstairs and into Jackson's room, though he does fall asleep again in the short amount of time between Jackson leaving the room to brush his teeth and coming back, the overhead light off and the desk lamp casting the room in soft orange.

“Hey,” Jackson says, rubbing a hand over Connor's back. “You probably don't wanna sleep in that.”

Connor groans in protest, but forces himself to sit up. “Do you wanna borrow something to sleep in?” Jackson says, already rummaging around in his closet before pulling out a pair of heather gray sweatpants and a well-worn plain white t-shirt.

“Thanks,” Connor says, and turns with his back to Jackson to change, more out of habit than anything else.

“Do you have a side preference?” Jackson asks, pulling down his duvet, and god it's a good fucking thing Connor is too tired to be freaking out about sleeping in a bed with Jackson for the first time. Or well, okay, he's _mostly_ too tired, but a small part of him is making a very valiant effort.

Connor shakes his head no, pulling the ponytail out of his hair, and waits for Jackson to turn off the lamp and climb in on the right side before taking the left, both of them curled up on their sides facing each other.

“I hope you had fun, even if it wasn't exactly what you were expecting,” Jackson says very softly, his hand cupped against Connor's cheek, thumb rubbing softly against his jaw.

“I did. I really, really did,” Connor says.

“Good,” Jackson says, his face tipped inward towards the pillow, almost shyly.

Connor leans forward, bridging the gap between them, Jackson's mouth still a little slack when they kiss, his wet lower lip pressing against Connor's.

“Good night,” Jackson says, eyes still closed when Connor pulls back.

“Good night,” Connor whispers, like a secret, turning over onto his other side to get comfortable.

He's too tired to worry about if he'll talk in his sleep or turn over too much, and when he wakes up in the morning Jackson's face is pressed up close to the back of his neck, one of his hands flopped over Connor's hip and it just feels right.

Connor drifts off for a little bit longer, finally waking properly to Jackson getting out of bed.

“Good morning,” Jackson says, stretching and giving Connor a truly delightful view of the v of his hip bones. “You in the mood for a shower?”

His tone is light and friendly, but Connor would have to be an absolute idiot to miss Jackson's tone, and even stupider to turn down the offer. Especially when after Connor washes his hair Jackson gives him a truly incredible blowjob, Connor's left leg thrown over his shoulder and his back pressed hard to the wet shower wall.

Connor's in such a good mood from the blowjob or the good night's sleep or both that he doesn't even care when Ivan gives him a little waggle of his eyebrows over breakfast.

Jackson walks him home the next morning, and it manages to not be an over walk of shame due to having left one of his hoodies over at Jackson’s place the other day, his dress shirt folded up small and shoved in the pocket, his one hand shoved in the other pocket and the other holding Jackson’s hand. 

“Hey, so,” Jackson says as soon as they’re off the line of his property. 

“So…” Connor says hesitantly, trying not to let the cast fishing line of his thoughts get too far ahead of him, but my god how can you not when your boyfriend opens with ‘hey, so’ the first time you’ve gotten past second base together. 

“I was just thinking, about how you’re going to be going back to school next month,” Jackson says slowly, with the kind of over-rehearsed ease of a movie star on the third week of a promotional tour. 

“Yeah…” Connor agrees. 

“I just, um,” Jackson licks his lips. “I was just wondering, like, what do you think is going to happen when you leave? Because I, um, I really like you and I would really like to you know, continue on with this.” He punctuates this with a little squeeze of their joined hands. 

Connor stops abruptly. “What?” 

“Well, I know long distance is a big commitment and I understand if that’s not really, what you’re looking for? And maybe would want to try something less, you know, like rigidly defined?” Jackson says, and Connor is dimly aware that they sure are blocking the sidewalk only half a dozen houses down from his own, but he feels like if he tries to explain and walk at the same time his brain will just completely shut down. 

“I thought,” Connor starts, his voice hitching so he swallows and starts again. “I thought that long distance was sort of already the plan? Unless, you want to do something different?” 

“Oh!?” Jackson says, surprise and relief mixing. “No, I don’t want to— I want to do long distance, I just didn’t realize, um, that was already the plan?” 

Connor frowns slightly, considering. And he supposes it is true that they’d never actually _talked_ about it, but after the Facebook Official and the Mutual Trauma Sharing it just sort of felt like a given that they’d be staying together after Connor flew back to school. 

“Hey, Con? What’s on your mind, cause you just went very quiet,” Jackson says running a hand up his arm. 

Connor’s brain gets a little bit stuck because he’s not quite sure how he can say ‘I don’t tell just any random person the shit I’ve told you’ without it coming off a little bit rude, even though his brain _sure does want_ him to say it. He pushes through, though, and finally manages the words, “I want to be with you. Even if I’m far away.” 

“Oh. Good,” Jackson says, his whole face melting with happiness and relief. “I’m gonna kiss you now, sorry, it’s my job as your boyfriend.” 

He gets 90% of the way to Connor’s mouth before his eyes snap back open and he says very quickly, “I mean unless you don’t want to kiss me, like obviously you can say no— ” 

Connor decides to cut him off. 

He spends most of the rest of Sunday going to Home Depot with his mom and Heidi so they can pick up stuff for the upstairs bathroom renos. They’re redoing not just Zoe and Connor’s bathroom, but also the master en suite and his mom spends a long ten minutes lusting after some expensive cotton wallpaper that’s like $100 a roll before finally deciding against it. There’s also a long ten minutes where they bump into another lesbian couple in the paint aisles and Connor has to pretend to be a lot more interested in what shade of light and inoffensive green they’ll paint the room he showers in than he really is. But as thank you for all his help his mom insists they stop off at Barnes & Noble and Connor spends a gleeful hour browsing while Heidi and his mom get coffee at the Starbucks. 

(And yeah okay sure he works at an independent bookstore and he should probably be more disdainful of Barnes & Noble in general but honestly they’re all unlikely allies now in the war against Amazon. Plus, it’s not like his store is exactly catering to the same clientele and while they do carry new releases it’s such a small part of their overall inventory so it’s not even like he’s buying stuff he could get at work anyways.) 

Connor ends up meeting them across the street because they’d succumbed to the sweet sweet Canadian athleisure siren song of Lululemon. He actually owns a few pairs of jogging pants from Lululemon that he does really like. His mom got them for him for Christmas a few years back, when she was really trying to be supportive of Connor trying to work out more in the hopes that it would help his brain hate him less. Even still, he can’t help but balk at the prices as he waits for Heidi to make up her mind about some hoodie that Connor thinks is sort of objectively hideous with its abstract pink and black pattern, but somehow Heidi manages to pull off. She doesn’t end up buying it, but they still finish on a strong upper-middle class high note by stopping at Whole Foods for some things for dinner. 

“We should get some soups for Evan,” his mom says as Connor trails after her in the frozen food section. 

“Oh speaking of,” Heidi says, re-emerging from the bakery section with a bag of those caramel shortbread cookies Connor and Zoe are obsessed with. “Connor, I just wanted to say how thoughtful it is of you to be helping Evan tomorrow, I know he’s really nervous and I think having someone there who’s gone through it will really be a big comfort to him.” 

“Totally, it’s not a big deal or anything.” 

“You’re such a good brother,” his mom says, hand clasped over her heart, “I really tried to get tomorrow afternoon off but we’ve already got one of the other receptionists on maternity leave so it just wasn’t going to work out.” 

Connor nods understandingly, but internally he’s a bit weirded out by the concept of Evan being his brother. He’s never had a brother before, and now this nice gesture seems like it’s tangled up in a whole weird web of brotherly interaction that Connor has no fucking clue how he’s supposed to deal with. Zoe may have adapted pretty quickly to having another brother but Connor is weird and stubborn and takes ages to get used to new things, and he’s filled with a simmering nervous dread about what exactly Evan is going to expect from him now. 

Of course, none of this really comes to fruition, but Connor still spends the entire ride to the dental office, and then the wait during the surgery a little on edge that he’ll be asked to do some sort of secret brotherly ritual that he doesn’t understand. There’s a sort of terrifying close call at one point when one of the dental assistants comes out midway through and requests ‘the boyfriend,’ so Connor is left alone with a stack of lifestyle magazines as Jared gives him a little shrug and follows back where they’d brought Evan. 

He’s in the middle of a very in-depth text conversation with Jackson about his opinion on horses (scary but not inherently evil) when he gets an incoming call from Jared. Connor frowns, unsure why Jared would be calling him from literally just down the hall, and he truly expects it to be a pocket dial. “Hello?” 

“Hey,” Jared says back immediately, surprisingly. “Can you come wait with Evan so I can go bring the car around? He’s um— _babe hey, hey, whoa okay, hands to yourself please_ — sorry he’s pretty loopy still, so him being alone is probably a bad idea.” 

“Yeah, sure one second,” Connor says, tossing the magazine he’d been halfheartedly skimming onto the coffee table and hanging up. 

The receptionist directs him down the hall, and both Jared and Evan look up at him when he comes through the sliding door. Evan’s still sitting in the dental chair, mostly but not entirely sitting up.

“Connor!” Evan says cheerfully but muffled through a mouthful of gauze. 

“Connor’s going to sit with you while I go get the car, okay Evan?” Jared says slowly, pushing the dark flop of Evan’s fringe up off his forehead. Evan nods dopily, but then leans up as if for a kiss, Jared taking a step back, “Babe you have blood in your mouth, I don’t want to kiss you.” 

Evan makes a sad little noise and sinks back into the seat. 

“Don’t pout, I’ll be right back with the car, and then Connor and I will help you walk to the car and we’ll go back to your house. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Evan says. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

“Wait, Jare?” Evan asks. 

Jared takes a step back, concerned. “Yeah?” 

“Kiss?” Evan asks very sweetly, his hands tucked up under his chin like a small child. 

“Oh my god, you menace,” Jared says, and leans over to give him a peck on the forehead, and gives Connor a look out the door like ‘you see what I have to deal with.’

Connor leans up against the countertop, amidst the jars of sample floss and little mini tubes of toothpaste. “How’s your face feel?” 

Evan prods at his face gently for a long few moments, considering. “Bad,” he says finally and Connor snorts. 

“Yeah I’d expect you don’t feel great,” Connor deadpans and Evan nods sagely, his head rolling onto his shoulder. “Hey, don’t fall asleep, you have to walk to the car in a minute.” 

“ _Nooooooo_ ,” Evan whines, painfully sincere and Connor can’t help but laugh, trying to muffle it behind his hand like a cough. 

Evan goes back to gently prodding his face, and Connor remembers that weird cold tingly swollen feeling as sensation comes back into your face. Evan lets his hands fall to his lap and abruptly lets out a watery little sob, tears pooling in his eyes. 

“Hey, hey,” Connor says, pushing off the counter and coming around to the other side of the dental chair and kneeling beside Evan. “Does it hurt? Do you want me to get the dentist?”

Evan shakes his head, a small flood of tears dripping down his face with the motion. “It doesn’t hurt.” 

“No one will be mad if it hurts, no one wants you to be in pain,” Connor says carefully. 

“I’m not in pain,” Evan says muffled through his mouthful of gauze, the crying not helping his clarity. “Nothing’s wrong— I don’t know why— nothing’s wrong.” 

Connor nods, pushing his hair off his face. “It’s probably just the meds, Evan, crying is really common. I cried after I got mine out, it’s okay.” 

Evan nods, sniffling pathetically, and Connor gets up, turning in a circle to try and find the poor kid a tissue, finding the box tucked on the windowsill and passing one to Evan, who attempts to blow his nose with minimal success. 

Connor crouches back down beside him. Evan’s still crying, but silently now, and less pained. Connor looks down at Evan’s hands folded limply in his lap, one still holding the wadded up tissue, but the other is empty and after a long moment Connor makes the executive decision to reach out for it. 

It’s a bit awkward because Connor reaches out with his right hand and takes Evan’s right as well, so it’s like a cross between hand holding and an intimate handshake. He rubs his thumb over the back of Evan’s hand, noting that he really should repaint his nails when he has some time— they’re getting gross. Their hands look weirdly similar Connor thinks, they both have such long thin fingers. Pianist fingers, his mom would say. Jared would probably call them something else. 

Evan lets out a watery little hiccup and says something Connor doesn’t make out except for ‘Jared.’

“Hey, Evan, shhh, Jared’s gonna be back soon just, uh, just don’t think about the Blue Unicorn,” Connor says, and Evan nods seriously reaching up to wipe his damp face with the tissue. 

Connor’s knees are starting to get grumpy with him, but he doesn’t move until Jared pops his head back around the sliding door, setting Evan’s hand gently back in his lap as he stands, knees crackling like pop rocks. 

“Jared!” Evan trills, so excited that he half spits out one of his pieces of gauze, which is objectively super disgusting, but Connor can admit it’s sort of sweet the way Jared rushes over and helps Evan put it back into place. 

“Alright babe, here we go,” Jared says, helping Evan to his feet, and he wobbles a little bit, but seems mostly steady. Connor takes the other side, walking behind them a little bit in case Evan lists backwards or to the right. He also gets delegated to carrying all the post-op paperwork the receptionist hands over and hitting the automatic door opener buttons. 

“I’m just down a little bit,” Jared says over his shoulder to Connor, “I didn’t want to attempt to parallel park that beast.” 

Since Connor was tagging along his mom had insisted that they take the crossover as that would be a lot easier than trying to fit Evan, with his long legs, or Connor, with his even longer legs, into the backseat of Jared’s compact. 

Jared’s digging in his pocket for the car keys, Connor trying to strategically think through how exactly they’re going to get into the backseat when a pack of dude bros goes by, taking up the entire sidewalk and forcing Jared to try and maneuver both himself and Evan out of the way when it’s clear they’re not going to move for them. 

“Get the fuck out of the way,” one of the guys snaps. 

“You move, sluts,” Evan says at the top of his voice with complete seriousness and more confidence than Connor thought he’d ever be capable of. It surprises Jared too, who makes a choking noise and drops the keys. 

One of the guys turns back to glare at them, but doesn’t do anything else and Connor turns back to Jared who promptly breaks down into a fit of laughter. “Fuck, okay, fuck, Evan lean against the car I’m going to fucking drop you.” 

Evan does as he’s instructed but turns to frown displeased at Connor, who promptly follows Jared in just absolutely losing his shit. The two of them honking with laughter as Evan looks between them with big glassy eyes. 

They finally manage to calm down enough to help Evan into the middle row, Jared’s shoulders still shaking with the aftershocks of his laughter. 

“That wasn’t too bad,” Jared says. “I think we deserve a B+ for that.” 

“Are you adding or subtracting points for your boyfriend calling some frat boys sluts?” 

“Oh my god, adding, absolutely,” Jared says, eyes scanning the road. “Oh hey, speaking of grades, do you have your course registration date yet?” 

Connor frowns, thinking, He’s not the best at checking his school email, even during the year, much less in the middle of the summer. “Not yet,” he says finally, since it’s not technically a lie. “Why?” 

Jared shrugs, too perfectly orchestrated to be genuine. “Nah, no reason, I just thought maybe we’d do it together if we were on the same day. I have to take an art or language credit so thought we’d maybe try and take another class together.” 

“Yeah because that turned out so well last time,” Connor says. 

“Hey, you passed! You more than passed!” Jared protests. 

“Only because I forced myself to memorize all the sample questions,” Connor says. “I didn’t actually _learn_ that much.” 

“Well the tables will be turned this time and you can watch me suffer through Chaucer or something.” 

“Maybe,” Connor says, and honestly the idea of Jared having to suffer through olde English after he watched Connor desperately trying to figure out the few mathematical concepts they had to learn for Astronomy does feel like some sort of karmic justice. 

It’s weird though, the thought that in about a month they’ll be back at school, that they’ll be expected to meld back into their college lives and their friend group despite the fact that there’s all this new information burdening them. 

It hits Connor very suddenly that they’re going to have to tell people, or if not explicitly, that people absolutely will find out about this. That Jared is dating Connor’s stepbother. And it’s not that he inherently has a problem with people knowing as much as the idea of people talking about it, because they absolutely _will_ be talking about something as juicy as this. The narrative being completely taken out of his hands with no way to ever get it back under control. 

Connor’s stomach knots and he slumps deeper into the passenger seat, easily droning out Evan’s mostly unintelligible mumbling from the backseat which Jared quite impressively seems to understand most of. They make a short stop at the drugstore so they can pick up Evan’s pain meds and a few other odds and ends. 

“Hey, I got you a Snapple,” Jared says climbing back into the driver’s seat and passing a bottle to Connor. “They were on a deal if you got two.” 

“Cool,” Connor says, and forcibly tries to pull himself out of his funk on the rest of the way home. In a way, trying to maneuver Evan out of the car and up the three steps into the house is a nice distraction from the ever-consuming threat of his own thoughts. 

Heidi and Evan had spent about an hour this morning setting up the living room so Evan could just crash once he got back from the procedure, navigating the stairs down to the basement had sounded like a bad idea. So there’s a blanket and pillow all ready, pudding cups and spoons and a phone charger within arm’s reach of the couch, and the TV remotes lined up in a neat row. 

“Alright, babe,” Jared says, trying to ease Evan gently down and failing completely at the last moment as Evan just flops onto the couch. He eases off Evan’s shoes, tucking his sock feet under the blanket and pulling the rest of it up to Evan’s chin. 

“Sleepy,” Evan says. 

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Jared says, running a hand over Evan’s forehead. “You should sleep.” 

“Mmmm,” Evan says, nestling down into the pillow as Jared unpacks his pain meds and sets them on the coffee table within arm’s reach. 

He hesitates after a second and looks to Connor. “Hey, are these gonna freak you out?” 

Connor shrugs. “Not really, no.” 

“Okay, cool,” Jared says, and it’s nice to be in a place again where Jared takes what he says at face value. He does feel a bit lazy though, sitting in an armchair while Jared shuffles around playing nursemaid for another few minutes before flopping down on the loveseat. 

Evan seems to actually have dozed off, his cheeks already starting to swell, bruises starting to form just underneath his jaw. Jared watches him for a minute, this dopey lovestruck look on his face that Connor’s pretty sure is entirely involuntary, before he turns back to Connor, stretching out on the loveseat. 

“God, I want a nap and a cheese pizza,” Jared says, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “Thank you so much for coming, I literally don’t think I could have physically handled that without a second person.” 

“Sure,” Connor says, trying to figure out if Jared wants him to stay and hang out with him or if he’d just rather gaze at his sleeping boyfriend adoringly in privacy. He decides to split the difference and pulls his phone out to check out what’s going on with Horsegate 2k18. Jackson’s brother Luke did Western riding, which had lead to the long term debate in the Wayne household about the evilness, or lack thereof, of horses. 

He’s gotten a weird text from an unknown number, which turns out to be Ivan scolding him for tipping the scales for the Horses Aren’t Evil side. 

_arent there like a ton of horses in the southwest?_

_Ndckjlszjsakdlksajdsa;ldjlksajdsa;ld_

_Don’t remind me_

“Hey, if I did order pizza would you go in on that?” Jared asks, scrolling through what is presumably a menu on his phone. 

“I mean I would, but I think drugged up Evan might cry if we get pizza and he can’t have any.” 

“Oh very valid,” Jared says. “We don’t want a repeat of Allie’s birthday.”

“Yeah, dear lord,” Connor says. “Have you been in touch with people?” 

Jared waves a hand vaguely. “Ehhh, a bit. Mostly just on facebook and stuff. Why?” 

Connor gives sort of a full body shrug. “I guess, just uh, you know.”

“I know what?” 

“Well, people will probably be all weird about,” Connor gestures between them and then at Evan. 

“Oh!? Shit did I not tell you?” Jared says, eyebrows crinkling together. 

“..Tell me what?” Connor asks hesitantly. 

“No, I totally already ran damage control on that, because you know those pictures of us from Zoe’s grad? When people were like ‘whaaaa?’ I just totally played it off like that was how we’d known each other. That it was through Evan. Which I mean, Miranda had some _things_ to say about that but, like, she’s like that, no one else was weird.” 

Connor blinks. “Uh, no you did not tell me that.” 

“Oh, sorry dude. Yeah I figured uh, it was an easy way to make sure no one got thrown under the bus. Plus, it’s honestly more believable than what actually happened.” Jared’s only half looking up from his phone, deflect, deflect, deflect, but Connor still appreciates it. 

“You know, I really wanted to take that detective fiction class, maybe that would be fun to take together,” Connor says, and Jared smirks at him, recognizing the olive branch. 

“Yeah for sure, let me know when your course registry date…” Jared trails off, distracted by something on his phone. “Wait, the fuck?”

“What’s wrong?” Connor asks but Jared’s already dialing something and putting his phone to his ear, getting up and stepping into the hallway. Connor can tell it’s not a happy call, Jared’s voice tense and annoyed, and he practically throws the phone onto the loveseat when he reemerges. 

“What’s up?” 

“I have to fucking go to work.” 

“What? Don’t you have today off?” 

“Uh, yeah I’m fucking supposed to,” Jared snaps, pulling his shoes back on from where he’d kicked them off. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not. I’m not mad at you, just my absolute _asshole_ manager. I guess someone else got sick so he expects me to cover even though I literally requested today off when I accepted the job. But who cares if you gotta look after your sick boyfriend, no because we have to sell laptops to confused moms and microphones to sell to every asshole who’s thinking about making a podcast.” 

He punctuates the last with one last shove of his foot into his shoe, standing with a long forced deep breath. “Are you okay to watch Evan? I can be back in like,” he looks at his watch, “Four hours? Sorry, I know that’s shit.” 

“It’s okay,” Connor says. “I didn’t have any other plans and like…” he gestures vaguely at Evan completely asleep, “It’s not like it’ll be hard.” 

“God, you are too good for this world Connor Murphy,” Jared says, digging out his keys, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

Connor follows him to the door so he can lock it behind him, and then sighs, deciding if he’s going to be stuck babysitting he should go gather everything he’s going to need for at least the foreseeable future. It ends up taking two trips because Connor is not quite stupid enough to think he can carry his laptop, charger, headphones, a notebook, two novels, a water bottle, a bag of pretzel crisps, a container of chevre, and a mug in one go. 

Evan mumbles something half awake the first time Connor comes back into the living room, but he’s asleep again by the time he returns with his stuff from the kitchen. He’s halfway through the pretzel crisps when he gets a text from Jared. 

_Hey my sweet sweet co-worker is going to help cover so I can be back by around 4_

_cool_

_Hows sleeping beuty?_

Connor glances over at Evan, whose face has definitely gotten a lot more swollen over the last hour or so. 

_swollen_

_Lol hes swol~_

Connor does actually snort out loud at that one, putting his phone back down and turning to his book. His mom had recently unearthed some list he’d made in middle school of all his favourite books when she was cleaning out the closet in her craftroom, which had inspired Connor to go back and reread some of them. He’d actually had to go out and buy a new copy of this one, _Going Bovine_ , because it had been the only book he’d brought with him to Soper Creek and after three weeks he’d read it so much the spine had completely fallen apart. 

He’s part way through a section about the main character’s dad that hits a little too close to the bone when Evan comes back to consciousness with a groggy little grunt. Connor studies him over the top of his book while Evan comes to, sitting up slowly, wincing a little bit. 

“You hurting? You might wanna take one of your pain pills,” Connor says evenly. 

Evan makes a noncommittal noise, and reaches up into his mouth to take the gauze out. They look like four tiny mauled sheep from some kids diorama project, and he sets them in the mug on the coffee table before looking around. “Where’s Jared?”

Connor sets the book down. “He got called in to go to work, but he said he should be back around four or so.” 

Evan frowns, and then winces again. “Dude, take your pills. I’ll get you some water,” Connor says, standing, ignoring Evan’s noises of protestation and filling him a plastic cup in the kitchen. He seems considerably less drugged and groggy than he did before, but still, better safe than sorry. 

Evan’s texting, Jared presumably, when Connor comes back into the living room and passes it to Evan, who looks over the medication sheet they’d given him. Connor figures he’s probably overcautious due to the ‘absolutely no opioids ever they could literally kill you’ speech doctors give when they prescribe you anti-anxiety meds. But he must be satisfied because he gratefully takes the cup from Connor and downs a dose before settling back down into the pillows. 

Evan huffs in annoyance at his phone before lifting it over his head to take a selfie, pouting melodramatically. He types fast, smiling to himself. Connor wonders if that’s what he looks like when he texts Jackson, suddenly embarrassed in hindsight for what he probably looked like in the waiting room. 

“You feeling okay?” Connor asks, hovering near the couch. He’s never been very good with people who are sick or injured, normally the one in the sickbed and not the nursemaid. “You were pretty out of it earlier.” 

Evan squints thoughtfully, tipping his head to one side. “Yeah it’s a bit hazy. I remember, Jared called someone a slut?” 

“Dude that was you, and you shouted it at some guys on the street.” Evan flushes, looking mortified. “It was honestly hysterically funny, don’t feel bad.” 

“Great, I can’t wait to never live that down,” Evan says, slipping back under the blanket. 

“It really wasn’t that bad, and there’s no audio or visual evidence,” Connor says placatingly. 

“I guess,” Evan says. “You care if I watch TV?” 

Connor shakes his head, flicking through channels to try and find something to watch.

“Oh, I love this movie,” Connor says when he flips past a channel airing _Holes_ and Evan backtracks, clicking on it, Connor setting his book and his phone to one side. 

Evan sits up further against his pillows, grabbing one of the pudding cups and peeling the top off. “You know Jared has seen this movie like a stupid number of times,” he says, licking chocolate pudding off the back of the lid. “It was probably his favourite movie all through middle school.” 

“Huh,” Connor says. He wouldn’t have called that for Jared, whose taste in movies tended to fall mostly along the lines of wanting to watch things in space, or things exploding, or things exploding in space. 

“Yeah, don’t tell him I told you this but Shia LaBeouf was, like, a key player in Jared’s sexual awakening.” 

Connor snorts in surprise. “What!?” 

“It’s true,” Evan says with a shrug. “I mean I’m not judging, I think it’s very cute honestly.” 

“Well, guess it’s nice to know there’s at least one person out there who doesn’t consider Megan Fox the hot one in the _Transformers_ movies.”

Connor hums thoughtfully, resealing what’s left in the bag of pretzels and going to put the sad remains of the chevre in the fridge. They watch the move in relative silence for a while, both of them on their phones texting their respective boyfriends, or at least Connor assumes that’s what Evan is doing. 

“Hey Evan?” 

“Hmm?” Evan says looking up from his phone. 

“You and Jared you’re not like….worried about doing long distance are you?” 

Evan tilts his head, considering. “Oh, I hadn’t really— not really, I don’t think. I mean we did all last year and, like, of course that’s different, I’m not saying it’s the same thing, but I feel like we sort of know at least what to expect?” 

Connor chews on the inside of his lip, considering. He hadn’t really considered until now the actual reality of doing long distance with Jackson, more focused on just not wanting to break up than what it would actually be like when Connor was literally thousands of miles away. 

“You don’t think Jared would ever transfer here do you?” 

Evan blinks. “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, the main reason he didn’t want to go to the U here was because of his dad and like, he teaches like a thousand freshmen every year, so everyone kind of knows Dr. Kleinman. I think he just didn’t really want to be spending four years with all this prebuilt expectation.” 

Connor nods. He remembers how much easier it had been for him after they’d moved, how he’d stopped being Connor Murphy the Printer Thrower (which wasn’t even accurate, he’d just pushed the cart it was on and it had fallen off, what seven-year-old has the upper body strength to throw a printer at something, like really) and just got to be Connor. It was the same logic that had inspired him to apply to only out-of-state schools, not wanting to roll up to his freshman college fresh start only to bump into someone from high school, talking about him behind his back. Crazy Connor, getting high in the bathroom or crying in class (as if Connor was stupid enough to get high at school). 

“I mean, plus, he gets a huge tuition reduction cause his dad used to teach there so it’s not like it was a huge deal that he was giving up that here,” Evan adds. 

That part Connor did actually know, though he’d been frankly shocked that Jared had spent the first five years of his life in California. The only people like Jared who are supposed to be in California are guys in silicon valley, and they’re all Midwestern imports anyways. They’d actually made a trip out in the spring to Jared’s hometown right after Connor and Thomas had broken up. In hindsight that was almost certainly Jared trying to cheer Connor up and get him out of the dorms, insisting he wanted a buddy to tag along to his cousin Lindsay’s engagement party. 

Which had been a pretty bald-faced lie given that Jared’s younger cousin Sam was there, who’d been like a younger slightly better dressed carbon copy of Jared and had stuck to his side all night, the two of them like those jeering old men from the Muppets in cargo shorts. 

All in all though, Connor had to admit the trip to the coast had been pretty fun, even if, like all good Midwesterners, the ocean did freak him out a little bit. 

(“Why?” Jared had said, “Cause it’s so big?” 

“I just don’t like the fact that it’s water that has touched dead people.” 

“Connor do you think no one has ever died in a lake before?”) 

“I think also,” Evan says thoughtfully, snapping Connor out of his thoughts. “And obviously like, this isn’t the case for _everyone_ , but I think, with me and Jared at least, having some time apart was actually really good for us and our relationship? I kind of think maybe we wouldn’t even be together if he’d stayed here.” 

Now _that’s_ a surprise. “Did you and Jared like each other since like, high school though?” Connor asks tentatively, not sure how much he can say without totally showing his hand.

“No, I mean, we did,” Evan says, starting to trip over his words a little in haste, his swollen cheeks definitely not helping. “But just like, I think the space really helped us know that it was what we wanted, weirdly? Like we both saw other people last year and I think it was good for us, to know that we were coming back to each other because, because we wanted to be and not just because it was an easy option.” 

Connor knows he shouldn’t push his luck, but he’s curious and he can’t help himself from asking, “You don’t care that Jared was hooking up with other guys?” 

“I mean, like, like, like it’s not like I’d want you know, all the nitty gritty but not really? I mean I saw this girl for a while and I hooked up with a couple of guys. And I also made it less stressful kinda when we did get together? Because it wasn’t, like, totally unknown territory I guess?” Evan waves a hand vaguely, and Connor wonders if the lingering anesthetic and sedatives are responsible for his openness, especially given that the last time they’d talked about sex Evan had been running the verbal gauntlet, tripping over his own ideas. 

“But yeah,” Evan continues. “Like, if anything it was good for us that Jared had you know, gotten some experience or whatever with whatshisface and Christian Slater.” 

“Christian Slater? The actor?” Connor says, already dreading where this is going. 

“No, that was just, that’s what Jared called the one guy. I guess he had this coat that reminded Jared of JD from _Heathers_?” 

Oh _fuck off_ Jared, Connor thinks, but schools his expression into neutrality. And stupid nickname aside this is actually sort of good news. Evan seems to know more about this than Connor would have expected Jared to have told him. It gives him pause with his recent plan of ‘let’s just never say anything,’ especially since Evan seemingly holds no ill will towards him. Or well, “Christian Slater,” but still, maybe this isn’t actually as much of a mortal sin as he’d thought it was. 

“So it doesn’t bug you?” Connor asks, heart pounding. A crest of bravery starting to swell in him, a desire to just rip the bandaid. 

“Honestly I’d probably give him a high five for teaching him...well...uh….” Evan flushes, “Nevermind.” 

“Evan, look, um,” Connor starts, “There’s something I should tell you— ” 

The front door slams open. 

“Jare?” Evan calls, but it’s Zoe not Jared who appears in the threshold of the living room, her eyes wild, her face twisted unhappily. 

“Nope, just me,” she says bitterly, and Evan opens his mouth to respond, but before he manages anything, Zoe bursts into tears, storming out of the entryway and upstairs to her room. Her footfalls echo like an approaching storm, followed by the thundercrack of her slamming her bedroom door. 

Evan hedges a cautious glance over at Connor, his eyes already pooling with tears an imminent threat and Connor wishes he had something to say to explain this. He’s never seen Zoe like this, not when their parents were getting into screaming matches every other day, not when they were going through the slog of the divorce proceedings, not even when Connor’d gone off the deep end. 

Whatever she’s not telling them, whatever is going on with her. Connor is half terrified that he doesn’t know, and half terrified to find out. 

“Sorry, uh, you were saying something,” Evan says, his voice wobbly.

Connor doesn’t tend to think the universe cares much about his business, but he’s pretty sure he couldn’t have imagined any possible way to make it more obvious that telling Evan is a bad idea unless there was a neon sign involved. Or at the very least the universe is trying to tell him he’s worrying about the wrong sibling. 

“Yeah, nevermind, it wasn’t important,” Connor says, still gazing at where Zoe had been. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to evol_love, euphrasiefauchelevent, and youshallnotfinditso for your invaluable help. Also Evan calling frat bros sluts was lovingly stolen from that Zach Woods interview on Conan.


End file.
